


Pursuit of Happiness

by Lush_Specimen



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Injury Recovery, M/M, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-03-26 19:56:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 22,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13864908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lush_Specimen/pseuds/Lush_Specimen
Summary: Thunderclash joins the Lost Light for the sole purpose of being close to Rodimus.  Oblivious to Rodimus' sarcasm, Thunderclash falls head over heels for the one bot that's actively avoiding him.Follows general comics plot events from Thunderclash's POV.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story started as a quick fic to imagine the conversation between Getaway, Atomizer, and Thunderclash regarding the mutiny in LL#11. 
> 
> Things promptly snowballed and now there are multiple chapters.

As the lift doors opened, Thunderclash mentally reviewed Ultra Magnus’ extremely precise directions once more. Take the main lift to deck 3, go straight down the hall, make the second right and then the third left and Swerve’s would be at the end of that corridor. 

Since the hall seemed to stretch on forever, Thunderclash gave his transformation cog a whirl and shifted into his alt mode. Feeling a little woozy after transforming, Thunderclash rumbled slowly along, taking the prescribed turns. Velocity had warned him not to leave the medibay so soon, but honestly he felt better than he had in ages. He just wanted to catch Rodimus on his rounds before the Lost Light parted ways with the Vis Vitale and thank him for welcoming himself and several members of his crew to join their quest for Cybertopia. Then, straight to his new quarters for a full recharge.

Seeing the bright red lights proclaiming the name of his destination, he downshifted to a stop and slowly transformed back into bot mode. Magnus had given him a bulleted checklist of Rodimus’ pre-departure stops, left justified double spaced with an excellent choice of font. After reviewing the itinerary, Thunderclash choose Swerve’s since it was near the end and easy to find. If he was lucky, and he always was, he should arrive before Rodimus and could simply wait to catch him.

Passing the oddly specific sign prohibiting guns, swords, and briefcases, Thunderclash pushed open the door headed to the bar. As he crossed the room, two bots in a corner booth called him over. Although his orange paint work now included quite a bit of gold accents, he recognized Atomizer immediately. As for the other, he hadn’t seen Getaway since he went to work for Autobot Intelligence ages ago. Because their booth was too small for a bot his size, his hooked a stool with his foot and dragged it over to sit with them.

“Hey, Thunders! Can I call you Thunders? Great!” Getaway began. “So anyways, Thunders, I am so glad that you have decided to join the Lost Light. Having you aboard will be a great asset to this quest. With you on board, we could really accomplish great things. When I say on board, I mean more than just being on the ship.”

“Don’t know if you’ve heard yet,” Atomizer chimed in, “but Megatron, the one and only, is also a member of this crew, by order of Optimus himself.”

“And that is where we come in,” Getaway continued, lowering the volume of this vocal processors, “I have a few ideas, though it’s definitely starring to develop into a plan. Let me give you the broad strokes and you can tell us if you are interested.”

Thunderclash opened his mouth to inquire about the direction of this conversation when bar doors crashed open. Rodimus jogged into the bar, leapt into the air, and executed a perfect front handspring off a table where Mainframe and Jackpot were sharing a drink, to land on his feet directly in front of Swerve at the bar. All thoughts completely gone, Thunderclash leaned one massive elbow on the table to prop his head up and just stared as Rodimus and Swerve started bickering complete with a flurry of hand motions, only vaguely aware of the subtle drone of Getaway’s continued chatter.

He only met Rodimus a few times before, but Thunderclash always wished that he could get to know him better. Rodimus was an intriguing study in incongruous traits: impulsive yet clever, whimsical yet dedicated, selfish and still magnificently generous. Thunderclash owed his life to Rodimus’ unique charisma, currently on full display as he argued with Swerve, light dancing off his trademark fiery metal-flake paint colors. 

As the shouting match died down, Rodimus gestured to a large container in the corner and whirled about to leave. Noticing Thunderclash still staring he smirked, winked, shifted into his alt mode and accelerated out of the bar. Thunderclash had nearly died countless times, but Rodimus’ wink probably came closest to killing him. His fuel pump began to race as he felt his recovering spark tighten in his chest and the rest of the world seemed to fade away. The indoor burnout brought on another round of shouting from Swerve, jabbing his finger at the black tire marks on the floor then throwing his hands up in exasperation. 

“Well?” Atomizer asked, “Are you in or what?”

Thunderclash shook his head to clear his thoughts, trying to calculate the possibilities of catching up to Rodimus, but his large transport alt mode was no match for Rodimus’ speedster. Blinking, he finally noticed Atomizer and Getaway silently leaning towards him, anxious for a reply.

“Yeah, sure,” he murmured absent mindedly, a dreamy smile spread across his face.

“So you are on board with the plan?!” Getaway bounced with excitement.

“Yeah,” Thunderclash sighed, “good plan,” still recovering from Rodimus’ whirlwind. 

Getaway and Atomizer sure seemed happy about something. He could figure out why later, pulling up Magnus’ list, Thunderclash decided he could meet Rodimus at the shuttle bay, if he hurried. A ship this massive made simply bumping into someone without a general knowledge of their whereabouts virtually impossible, and he simply had to see Rodimus again. Maybe this time he could keep it together long enough to actually talk to him.

Two large steps from the exit, Thunderclash heard his name again. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Swerve waving frantically.

“Oi! Thunders! I really need your help! It will only take two seconds, I swear!” Swerve called. The request brought Thunderclash back to reality, he could never refuse the opportunity to help someone in need. 

Getaway and Atomizer practically skipped past on their way to the exit, “Thanks again for your support! We’ll let you know when we are ready to make our move.” Thunderclash nodded, but made a mental note to talk to those two later. He had a nagging feeling that he might have missed something important.

“Hello, Swerve! How can I help you?” Thunderclash leaned against the wall beside the bar.

At his greeting, Swerve practically melted, “You, you know my name?”

“Of course! You and Rung saved me from my ammorite-in-disguise first mate Paddox on my last visit to the Lost Light. I could never forget you!” bending closer, he continued conspiratorially, “I also have it on very good authority that you operate the best bar on this vessel.” With that compliment, Swerve bubbled over with emotions somewhere between elation and embarrassment.

Placing a hand gently on his tiny shoulder, Thunderclash tried, as politely as possible, to bring Swerve back into focus, “You said that you needed my help?”

“Right,” Swerve coughed, mastering his giggles. “Ol’ Rodders was just in on his pre take off rounds, trying to do the proper captain routine, and he gave me a hard time about not having my recent supply of engex properly secured. I mean, really! It was a gift! Roadmaster and Javelin brought it over from the Vis Vitale.” 

He hopped over the bar and gestured to the storage cylinder near the door, “I need to put that to the proper wall bay according to captain safety inspection. Rodimus is impossible when he’s trying to be professional. Anyways, long story short, if I wanna keep my bar license, and I do, I need to move it.”

“Roadmaster gave you an entire canister of her engex? That bot is a master distiller, you must’ve made quite the impression!” Thunderclash knelt down to playfully nudge Swerve with his elbow, “What blend did she give you?”

“Cybertopian Sunrise,” Swerve grinned. 

“Primus!”

“I know right! I’ve already sampled it. So amazingly strong yet smooth; it’s like she took the idea of Nightmare Fuel and perfected it. That’s why I need your help! You need a steady, gentle had to move triple filtered engex of this quality. I can’t ask Mags, because he would just give me a disapproving glare and a speech about how much he disapproves of my entire enterprise, and I don’t trust Ten to do it by himself,” Swerve continued as a large golden bot lumbered over at his beckoning.

“I’m sorry,” Thunderclash offered his hand to the newcomer, “I don’t believe we have met before. My name is Thunderclash and you must be Ten.”

Ten immediately blushed and accepted Thunderclash’s handshake with one hand while hiding his face with the other, stammering his name over and over.

“Well, I am flattered that you have heard so many stories about me,” Thunderclash smiled, “but you have me at a disadvantage. Tell me a little about yourself, Ten.”

Ten’s jaw dropped and Swerve fell into a shocked silence that lasted a full five tenths of a second. Then they both started talking at once. Thunderclash listened carefully, then responded to each one individually.

“Wow! From Luna 2 and you used to work for Tyrest? I bet you’ve got a lot of stories of your own to tell,” Thunderclash thumped Ten on the back, which caused him to bury his face in both hands.

“As for your questions, Swerve, a simple recalibration of your audio receptors will translate Ten’s speech pattern. We once drove a decepticon worldsweeper off of a planet inhabited by organic creatures with similar vocalizations. Although they each only spoke one word, subtle variations in tone, volume, and inflection conveyed different concepts. I can teach you how, if you’re interested.”

“Fought a worldsweeper?! While translating alien languages,” Swerved sighed dreamily. “Rodimus was right, you really can do anything.”

Just as he and Ten hefted the heavy container onto their shoulders, Thunderclash froze, “Rodimus said that, about me?” He felt his knees go weak, but not because of the immense weight. 

Thunderclash stumbled forward, not wanting to strand Ten bearing the entire load or damage the engex, and collapsed as soon as they fit it into the storage bay. Ten threw an arm across his chest and lowered him gently to the floor. His vision blurred but he could still hear Ten’s concerned chattering and Swerve freaking out. Lotty has warned him that he would need to recharge more frequently while his body adjusted to his newly repaired spark.

“I’ll be fine, really, I just stayed up too long without a recharge,” Thunderclash weakly laid his own hand on Ten’s forearm, “Call Velocity, at the medibay. She’ll know what to do.”

The last thing Thunderclash remembered was the unfamiliar sensation of being cradled in someone’s arms.


	2. Rodimus Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovering from his latest blackout under the care of his doctor and good friend Velocity, Thunderclash considers old injuries and new opportunities when he receives a most unexpected award.

Sounds always came into focus first; the gentle hum of supplementary energon pumps, brightly chirping spark monitors and the occasional electric crackle of refined welding torches. Thunderclash had been in and out of stasis enough times that waking up after a stretch of time offline has developed its own rhythm. He heard the distracted humming of a popular Camien show tune and smiled, the motion made possible by his reawakening motor skills. He tentatively stretched out his fingers and rotated various joints, pleased to feel relatively quick responses. Optical sensors usually took the longest to recalibrate. 

Slowly the room came into focus, starting with a nearby blurry patch of green and gold. He cycled his optics again and the colors began to sharpen into the form of Velocity, the Camien doctor that joined him on the Vis Vitale. Although she was a recent addition to his crew, they had developed an easy rapport and he considered her a close friend. He didn’t ask her to join the Lost Light, lest she feel pressured to continue serving as his physician, but was overjoyed to learn that she joined Rodimus’ crew. Apparently there was someone on the Lost Light that she wanted to spend time with as well.

When he received a critical injury from a double fusion cannon blast to the spark, Thunderclash realized that medical procedures would be part of his everyday life. At that time he decided to never give up, learn everything available about his medical condition and just move forward with the routine as professionally as possible. Black out, wake up again, and simply move on, until one day he didn’t. He never asked about how long he’d been offline, wanting to focus only on the present, not time lost.

“Morning Big Bot! So instead of finishing your recharge, you decided to move engex around in a bar. Do I have that right?” Velocity asked while checking the various monitors still wired to Thunder’s main systems.

“Good Morning, Lotty,” he sighed, voice uncharacteristically flat as his vocal processors haven’t come fully online yet. It didn’t matter what the actual time was, he and Velocity had always greeted each other with “good morning” after he had been out, like he was just waking up from a quick recharge cycle. “We both know this isn’t the first time Roadmaster’s distillations knocked me out cold.”

“Sweet Solus Prime!” Velocity laughed, “Don’t tell me she gave Swerve Cybertopian Sunrise. I am going to see a spike in requests for headache meds. Nautica loves that stuff though; I’ll have to take her for some before the supply runs out.”

“Speaking of which, Ten carried you all the way here by himself. He was quite upset, but I assured him that a proper recharge would set you in order,” Lotty looked up from her array of monitors, “and you’ll be happy to know that you are healthier now than, well, ever since I’ve known you, so well done! The personality ticks really did an amazing job on your repairs. Although your spark is no longer collapsing, it still bears the scars of your terrible injury. As we discussed before, more frequent recharges should help keep your energy up while the rest of your body adjusts to the changes. Before you get up, let’s have a look.”

“Sure thing,” Thunderclash replied, happy to hear his voice regain its usual deep rumble.

Opening up the spark chamber was normally a very intimate gesture, but his decision to live life as fully as possible meant overcoming any shyness or awkwardness early on. Many different doctors tried and failed to stabilize his damaged spark over the years. He learned a lot from them, and worked hard to make their jobs easier. Thunderclash always tried to be as specific as possible about any new pains, and could read his own body as well as the autobot code. Strange that an alien parasite had been able to repair what so many Cybertronian medics could not. The universe truly is full of wonders.

Velocity waited as Thunderclash opened his chest plate to reveal his vibrant blue spark. Some bots said the color of his spark meant that he was destined to carry the Matrix and be a Prime, but Thunderclash always thought that was for greater bots than himself, like Optimus or Rodimus, especially Rodimus. Sure, he once held the Matrix for Optimus upon his request, but anyone would’ve done the same.

Thunderclash looked down and watched as Velocity gently completed her exam. When Tarn first shot him, Thunderclash thought he was dead, and truthfully, if Tarn’s aim had been little to the left he would have been killed instantly. He could feel the fusion blast scorch metal and melt cables as it burned completely through his chest and grazed his spark before he passed out. He woke up some time later in a medical facility feeling like he’d been kicked to Luna 2 and back. The intense pain that came with a cracked casing and slowly collapsing spark then became part of everyday life. Despite the constant agony of his condition, he truly considered himself lucky to have survived when so many others died on the battlefield. 

The black fracture lines that once radiated out from edge of the fusion burn now glowed faint silver, almost like organic scar tissue. He could feel a difference in his spark, with a slight sensation of tightness replacing the familiar ache. He leaned closer to watch Velocity carefully documenting the new scars to compare with his medical history data and bumped her head.

“Hey! I’m working here!” she playfully bumped back. “Look at these repairs. I’ve really never seen anything like them. The silvery bits aren’t the same material as your original spark, but they are holding it together and completely halted the collapse. Since you have had this injury for quite some time, there is some loss of mass, but even though it is now slightly smaller, your spark is remarkably stable. With more analysis, we might be able to replicate this type of repairs ourselves. I’ll have to discuss this with First Aid when he gets back, with your permission of course.”

“Of course,” Thunderclash nodded, “anything that might help someone else.” He took one last look at his newly repaired spark, silver glowing faintly against the field of bright blue. As Lotty removed the remaining monitor wires, he resealed the casing and sat up, thinking about what it might be like to share the light of his spark with someone other than a doctor, someone like the remarkable captain of the crew that he joined. 

“Well, Lotty?” Thunderclash asked as he stood up and stretched his massive frame to try to loosen the joints but careful not to interfere with any of the abundant medical instruments, “Do I have the all clear? I should report to our new captain if I can be added to active duty.”

“I still want you to take it easy, try to keep it in low gear for a change. The fractures are healed, but we are in rather uncharted territory as for how this recovery will go. And as for Captain Rodders, you just missed him.” Without looking up from her datapad, Velocity continued, “He has been in to check on you several times and insisted on being present when you woke up, said it was a true captain’s duty or some such. He’d still be here, getting in my way, if Megatron hadn’t called him to the bridge. Something about a shuttle requesting docking and both captains should be present.”

“Rodimus was here!? To look in on me?” Thunderclash stammered and quickly sat back down before he fell over. He had been barely awake when Rodimus and Megatron arrived on the Vis Vitale and saved everyone, saved him, by overwhelming the personality ticks with their combined charisma, but he would never forget it. Rodimus changed everything by, as he so confidently put it, “just showing up.” Even though he knew he was in the early stages of an unprecedented recovery, he joined the Lost Light as soon as Velocity told him he no longer needed the Vis Vitale for continuous life support. 

“Yep!” Velocity answered as she finished her notes and produced a small fiery orange box from a drawer in the recharge slab. “I almost forgot, he left this for you. He really wanted to give it to you in person, but said you had to have it as soon as you came online. Also,” Velocity added with a smirk, as she tossed him the box, “you never told me you were the greatest autobot of all time. Rodimus was very specific about that part.”

Thunderclash bobbled the slim case as he tried to catch it, partly because the joints in his large fingers took awhile to warm up, but mainly from the surprise. He could feel his face heating up to a visible blush as his fuel pump raced. Last time the Vis Vitale docked with the Lost Light, Rodimus always seemed too busy to talk. He did sacrifice a full charge of his quantum engines to give the VV the boost it needed to continue, but never had time to attend a meeting.

“Well,” Velocity said as she sidled up to look over his elbow, “come one, open it! Honestly, I kinda know what it is, but it is killing me to know what it’s for. I mean not actually killing me, I am in perfect health, and I would know because I’m a doctor.”

Lotty was still going on about not actually dying as he slowly pried open the hinged lid of what appeared to be a medal case. Inside was a polished gold image of Rodimus’ smirking face against a background of winged flames like those across his chest. He cocked his head to the side, curious about the meaning of what was obviously in the style of merit medals awarded during the war when Lotty burst into laughter.

“I knew it!” she exclaimed cuffing him on the shoulder, “Congratulations, Thunders ol’ chap, you’ve earned a Rodimus Star! Rodders gives them to members of the crew when you’ve accomplished something unique, usually something ridiculous, and no two awards are the same.” She produced a similar medal case from her tool kit and showed him her medal. “I got mine for saving Swerve from sitcom poisoning, which I told Rodimus is not actually a thing, but it was the first time a saved a life as a doctor, so it was a pretty big milestone for me. Anyways, turn it over, he always handwrites the reason for the star on the back.”

Tracing his fingers along the etched flames, Thunderclash tried hard not to pass put again. It took dedicated effort to slow down his fuel pump and try to organize his whirling thoughts. What could it be for, he wondered. During the war, he was awarded many medals for various feats of what others called heroism, but Thunderclash never considered doing what was right an extraordinary act. When you have the chance to help someone, you take it. Lotty said Rodimus awarded these to members of his crew. Does that mean he really belongs on the Lost Light when all he has done so far is try to help Swerve move a huge vat of premium engex and then pass out? Rodimus considers him a member of his crew! Thunderclash could feel himself visibly glowing.

Carefully turning over the Rodimus Star, he and Lotty leaned closer to read the surprising beautiful inscription on the back. In cursive Cybertronian script with far too many flourishes, Rodimus had written “For surviving your own funeral.”

“Primus!” Lotty snickered, “That is so inappropriate.”

A grin spread across Thunderclash’s face as he looked over to Velocity who was failing to contain a fit of giggles. As soon as his magenta optics met her gold ones, they both lost all composure and burst into full on, doubled over, hearty laughter. It had been a long time since Thunderclash had encountered anything this sincerely absurd, and he loved everything about it with all the light of his patchwork spark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dealing with his injury, I feel like all Thunderclash's closest friends were probably doctors.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I am still refining a few more chapters!


	3. Greatest Autobot of All Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking place during MTMTE #48 & #49, Thunderclash tries to comfort an injured Rodimus and pursues Sunder with Megatron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little darker than the rest so far, but nothing too intense.

By the time the laughter subsided, they had to lean on each other for support.

“Okay, okay!” Velocity pat Thunderclash on the back, “I do have other patients in here, gotta at least try to act professional, although I’m finding that increasingly difficult on this ship.”

“I will say,” Thunderclash smiled, “this is the most truly unique medal I have ever recieved. All my war time hardware for extreme heroism or courage under fire, or whatever else, anybot would do the same, and many did. But this, this is really special. Rodimus made this for me, and it even relates to a subject that very few would ever bring up in conversation.”

“I am glad you like it, but it is still totally ridiculous,” Lotty conceded.

“That’s why I like it. If you took frivolity, combined it with pure whimsy and extreme boldness in the sincerest possible way, you would get this Rodimus Star.” Thunderclash reopened his chest plate so he could place the Rodimus Star on the inside, close to his spark. “Lotty, you know, I’ve been slowly dying for years, but I’ve never really talked about it to anyone.” Noting Lotty’s raised eyebrow, “At least anyone not a doctor. I know it makes people uncomfortable, but Rodimus just went right there. He possesses such honest sincerity. Everything he does is just so amazing!”

A sly smile began to curl at the corners of Velocity’s mouth, “Aww! It sounds like…”

Before she could finish, all the lights went out and the red alert warning klaxons blared to life. Lotty sprang into action, quickly moving down the emergency protocols list. Thunderclash cleared half the distance to the exit in one giant step, hurrying to make it out before Lotty sealed off all access points to the medibay. Whatever had gone wrong, he couldn’t help anyone locked in here.

Suddenly the ships PA system crackled, “This is Megatron, your captain.”

“Co-Captain!” an unmistakeable voice further from the microphone chimed in.

“Fine, Rodimus,” Megatron sighed, “This is your co-captain. We have encountered a bit of a situation with our visitors currently docked in the shuttle bay. Please return to you hab suites and lock the doors while we sort this out. That is an order.”

The screech of speeding tires echoed through the speakers. “Rodimus, don’t run ahead!” Megatron’s shout trailed off and the PA system sputtered only static.

Thunderclash primed his shoulder cannons as his second step brought him to the door.

“Hey, Big-Time-Hero-Bot,” Velocity met his eyes, “After you leave, I will lock these blast shields, nothing gets in here on my watch. Be careful out there.”

Opening the door, Thunderclash waved over his shoulder, “Don’t worry! You’re talking to the greatest autobot of all time.” 

Despite the worry in her optics, Lotty smiled, “So, I’ll see you back on one of my recharge slabs within the hour then.”

Thunderclash laughed and shook his head, “Most likely,” he replied as the blast shield slammed shut behind him.

Red emergency lighting dimly light the ship’s corridors but at least the warning sirens finally fell silent. Thunderclash hurried towards the central lift, heavy footfalls echoing loudly in the darkness. He tried to walk more deliberately to minimize the noise but found progress too slow; somehow he never could keep a low profile. Shifting into his alt mode, he decided that his low engine rumble created less racket than stomping along. If only he knew exactly where to go, he really should have asked Lotty for directions.

Transforming back into bot mode to round a tight corner, he ran head first into Megatron. He fought the urge to bring his cannons online as he felt his co-captain’s bright red optics evaluating him. How many times had Megatron personally tried to kill him? Tarn only took orders directly from Megatron, and he had deliberately targeted Thunderclash.

“Thunderclash, it is good to see you up,” Megatron greeted him, “we would greatly appreciate your assistance with this situation.”

Not sure what to say, Thunderclash simply nodded. Many times his collapsing spark would cause his body to go into stasis while his mind remained online; Thunderclash, stuck in his own head, composed various speeches that he might one day deliver to the bot responsible for his condition, but here, alone in a dark hallway, adrift in space, he couldn’t recall a single one. If Rodimus, whom Megatron once shot point blank in the chest, could work with him, then Thunderclash would certainly have to try.

Attempting to master the trembling in his cannon arm, and desperate for a distraction, Thunderclash peered ahead into the gloom, “What is that?” He asked, pointing to a mangled metal sphere.

Walking up to the object, Megatron put his hands on his hips, “Not what, but who,” he sighed. “That is likely Rodimus, whom I told to wait.”

Dropping to his knees, Thunderclash felt as though jagged claws tore into his chest, ripped out his spark and shredded it before his eyes. As the world began to blur, he forcefully willed his spark to stay online. Placing one hand gingerly on Rodimus’ distorted form, he whispered, “Is he…”

“Incredibly impulsive, impossibly willful and physically incapable of following orders,” Megatron huffed throwing his arms in the air, “Yes!”

Thunderclash looked up at Megatron, optics pleading for an answer to a question he couldn’t bear to ask.

Suprisingly, Megatron softened, “But dead, no,” he sighed, “Rodimus is very much alive.” Folding his arms across his chest and turning away, “I told him not to run ahead because our visitor brought a renegade mnemosurgeon onboard. Sunder operates by sight, turning your brain against your transformation cog. Everything spins backwards and you wind up inside out, like our young captain here. While exceedingly painful, the condition is completely reversible by a skilled mnemosurgeon, which fortunately we have amoung our crew.”

Considering Megatron’s words carefully, Thunderclash resolved to provide as much aid as possible to his injured captain. “Rodimus, this is Thunderclash,” his voice wavered, “listen to me, I know you might be scared.”

“Wrong!” Megatron interrupted, “Rodimus never listens to anyone and I don’t think anything scares him either, even if it should.”

“Maybe,” Thunderclash replied while keeping his focus on Rodimus, “but in my experience, your mind can go to some pretty dark places when you’re this badly hurt.”

Gently placing his other hand on the twisted metal, Thunderclash wondered if Rodimus was always this warm. Hoping his touch could provide some manner of comfort, he continued “Listen, Rodimus, focus on my voice. Audio receptors often stay active when all other faculties are offline, so use that. I’ll keep talking and you just listen, don’t focus on the pain.”

Megatron’s folded his arms and watched with quiet concern when comm line began to chime and he turned his back on Thunderclash and Rodimus to answer it.

“You possess such great strength,” Thunderclash continued, “You inspire me everyday in so many ways. Honestly, I have been trying to catch up with you for a while now, to thank you for welcoming me, and several of my crew, onboard. Your generous hospitality means so much to me. I’ve been dying for so long, joining the Lost Light is my first real chance to live, and you gave that to me. I want you to know how much I appreciate that.”

“Rung, Tailgate, and Chromedome are on their way to our location,” Megatron announced. “Chromedome assures me that he can sort Rodimus out. Let’s get moving. We should be able to stop Sunder before he does this to anyone else, if everyone actually followed the order to stay in their rooms, which I think we both know is unlikely.”

“I’m going to stay with Rodimus until they arrive, I won’t leave him alone in this condition,” Thunderclash stated a little more harshly than he intended.

Ignoring Megatron’s surprise, Thunderclash continued talking to Rodimus, trying to keep his tone soothing while he struggled to keep his own spark online. Thunderclash could deal with his own health issues, but seeing someone he cared about so deeply hurt was incredibly difficult. “Chromedome is on his way here, and he can repair you. Don’t worry, I am not going anywhere until he gets here.”

At that moment three bots rushed around the corner and raced towards them. Thunderclash recognized Rung so the other two must be Tailgate and Chromedome.

“Rodimus, Chromedome is here. He will get you back in shape, so to speak.” Thunderclash smiled, knowing Rodimus would appreciate a bit of silliness. “Listen to him, it always helps the medics if you can pay attention. I am going to go with Megatron now, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Thunderclash rubbed the warm metal with small gentle circles once more then stood up to leave just as the others arrived.

The orange and white bot skidded to a stop and ejected a set of fine needles from his fingers, “Go on! I’ve got this!” Thunderclash shuddered at that sound. Even after countless operations, the idea of someone else’s fingers in his brain gave him chills.

Leaving the three newcomers to tend to Rodimus, Thunderclash and Megatron started down the dark corridor. After rounding a corner that took them out of sight, Megatron said, “You know, I always thought they called you the greatest autobot because you are 40 feet tall with anatomical weaponry.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Thunderclash asked, not sure where he was leading.

“Only that I was wrong about you, like so very many other things," Megatron shook his head. "I should have known Optimus would value kindness and sincerity above all else.” 

Suddenly a huge figure loomed in the darkness ahead, groaning, “I am Mortilus.”

All in one motion, Thunderclash leapt forward, swept Megatron behind him with his massive right arm, while bringing his left cannon online. Dropping to one knee for better aim, he fired three quick shots. The screeching sound of tearing metal indicated that the first shot hit is mark. The next two thudded harmlessly into the wall as Sunder retreated.

“Halt, you ruffian!” Thunderclash bellowed, launching himself forward in pursuit when a heavy hand on his shoulder stopped him short.

“You protected me. Why?” Megatron demanded.

Thunderclash shook his head and shrugged, “Because you were in danger.” Why did people always ask about his motives? Generally, he had a very simple and practical answer for them. “Now let’s put an end to this whole affair.” The sooner they could wrap this up, the sooner he could check on Rodimus.

To his surprise, Megatron nodded as a smile tugged at the corner of his perpetual scowl, “Agreed. Together, then.”

They rushed around the next corner as one. Thunderclash never dreamed he’d one day run head first into danger with Megatron at his back, but whenever Rodimus was involved, the word impossible lost all meaning. He rolled his shoulders to work out any kinks from the recoil and brought the weapon online again as Sunder reared up from behind a strange shuttle craft.

“Stand down, Sunder!” Thunderclash commanded, aiming his cannon, “This can still end peacefully, but resist and I will stop you.”

“Oh, I think not,” Sunder growled as his whirled around and locked eyes with Thunderclash.

He heard Megatron shout a warning half a second too late as an electric shock tore through his body. Thunderclash dealt with illness for a long time and knew his own body intimately, and at that moment it all went horrifically wrong. 

He could feel Sunder attack his brain and force his transformation cog to spin in reverse. Pain exploded across his body as thousands of joints bent backwards against themselves, twisting and popping in agony. Amid the screeching metal of his distorting form, the roar of his own scream filled his audio receptors until his vocal processor turned inside out. The world faded to black as his body folded in on itself, his large frame violently compacting into a illogically small mangled mass. Unable to resist the savage contortions and overwhelmed by the searing pain, Thunderclash lost all grip on consciousness, his last thought the terrible realization that Rodimus had endured this terrible assault as well.


	4. Back in Shape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being mangled by Sunder in MTMTE #49, Thunderclash waits to be repaired and is kept company by someone unexpected (but we all know it's Rodimus)!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad people are enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it! The story keeps going!

Away from the mnemosurgeon’s influence, Thunderclash regained control of his own brain. A quick self-evaluation yielded horrifying results: Visual, vocal, and audio systems all offline, zero motor skills available, entire body of place. He could definitely still feel as every sensory receptor screamed in pain. Fighting to quell the rising panic, Thunderclash sought desperately for something, anything to focus on other than how his right knee panel threatened to crush his fragile spark. 

A gentle heat blossomed on his contorted forearm, and Thunderclash latched on to that sensation like a lifeline thrown to someone adrift in space. He frantically clung to the warmth, struggling to claw his way out of this torment through sheer force of will. With something tangible to anchor his mind to reality, Thunderclash worked internally to restore his audio receptors. He started to discern faint sounds, and gradually the muffled noises became discernable voices. 

“Would you go get some rest! Chromedome just put you in order and won’t be able to help Thunderclash until he has a full recharge. Poor Thunders isn’t going anywhere in that condition.” He recognized Velocity instantly. She ruled her medibay with an iron fist that would do Megatron proud. A wave of relief washed over him, if he was in her care, then everything would turn out okay. The identity of the other, closer voice took more focus to determine. 

“I already told you! If he’s not going anywhere, then neither am I. He didn’t leave me. Do you hear that, Thunders, your doctor is literally trying to kick me out.” 

“That’s not even the proper use of that word,” Lotty retorted.

“I thought Nautica was the linguist.”

“Solus, save me! Fine!” Lotty relented. “You can stay, but only because I know Thunderclash appreciates the company. Make no mistake though, one more handstand and you are out of here, I don’t care what your rank is.”

Suddenly it all fell into place, the warmth, the rank, the bickering; Rodimus was the one by his side. Despite the pain and frustration at his current condition, Thunderclash felt a strange rush of happiness, at least he was surrounded by his two favorite bots. 

Never one to keep still, Rodimus began to trace abstract patterns along Thunderclash’s mangled panels as he continued, “Anyways, as I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted, I wanted to thank you for staying with me. When everything was so screwed up, listening to someone really helped me focus. You knew exactly how to help me out, but I guess you have a lot of experience being hurt.”

The soothing motion stopped but the touch remained, “That came out wrong,” Rodimus sighed. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad, about being hurt all the time, I mean, I just… Primus! Let me start again.”

“I’m pretty sure that you can hear me, because I could hear every word you said to me when Sunder hacked my brain, so I want to keep talking, like you did for me. I recently lost my very best friend by telling someone else’s lies, and I don’t want to lose you too, so I am going to be honest. I’ve kinda been avoiding you lately.”

Thunderclash felt a mix of conflicting emotions. The fact that Rodimus was by his side keeping him company filled him with joy, and the comment about not wanting to lose him really was more than he could handle in any condition, but he always just thought Rodimus was just busy. Unable to respond, Thunderclash waited with concern for Rodimus to continue his explanation. 

“Honestly,” Rodimus deeply vented in and out, “I just didn’t know how to respond to you. Every bot knows your stories, ridiculously noble and heroic, always saving the day and so on. When you asked to join the Lost Light, I expected you to tell me off for not being serious enough or whatever, but you’ve only ever been genuinely supportive. My own crew doesn’t even believe in me that much. Scrap, sometimes I don’t even believe in me that much.” 

“You didn’t have to stay with me, but you did. You always seem to know what to do. Not me though, everything I touch turns to rust, I try and I try and things just fall apart. I welcome the greatest autobot ever aboard my crew after a miracle recovery and promptly get him critically injured.” 

“On a positive note,” Rodimus quickly changed gears, “I am feeling much better! Don’t worry, you will too, once Chromedome gets a good recharge. Then he’ll put you back in shape too! In the meantime, I’ll stay here and tell you about some of the stuff that happened before you joined up.”

With no way to respond, Thunderclash listened to Rodimus brightly chatter on and on, clinging to every little detail. Chromedome arrived in the middle of a description of his space-color paint scheme, which incidentally won him the hide and seek contest. Thunderclash dreamily tried to imagine Rodimus painted in the shimmering blues and purples of deep space. He must have looked magnificent!

The distinctive metallic hiss of the mnemosurgeon deploying his needles brought Thunderclash back to the crisis at hand. Although he had many medical procedures over the years, no one ever touched his brain before. For the first time in hours, Rodimus fell silent, presumably so Chromedome could concentrate, leaving Thunderclash alone with his fears.

“Ok, Big Bot, you might feel some discomfort as Chromedome repairs the connection between your brain and your transformation cog.” He really appreciated how Lotty always kept him informed.

“Pretty sure he has been in constant discomfort for awhile now.”

“Rodimus! This is a very delicate procedure, especially on a bot with his medical history. You have to be quiet!”

“I don’t want Thunders to think he’s alone!”

Thunderclash struggled to focus on Lotty and Rodimus bickering with each other and not the five needles that just pierced his armor. After what felt like an eternity of exceedingly uncomfortable probing, something snapped in his brain, like a taught spring unwinding, and his transformation cog flipped back in the proper direction. His body began to rapidly shift and reconfigure, joints bending back into the correct shape, metal plates unfolding and stretching. As the agonizing process continued all his systems came back online at once and he returned to his original shape.

Most of the pain had quickly dulled from excruciating to manageable except for a terrible headache. Realizing he was on the floor of the medibay, he hugged his knees to his chest and shut his eyes as he struggled to focus all of his systems at once. He could handle the familiar rhythm of coming back online after a blackout but having someone fiddle with is brain was a new and terrible experience. 

“Hey, Thunders? Are you ok?”

Thunderclash felt Rodimus’ warm hands on his knees as he leaned over to check on him. Looking up to see the genuine concern in Rodimus’ sparkling blue optics was more than Thunderclash’s already exhausted spark could take and he promptly passed out.


	5. Doctor's Orders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thunderclash wakes up to discover Rodimus watching over him and instantly assumes he's hallucinating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short update!

As his systems slowly came back online, Thunderclash was met with some unfamiliar sensations. He had woken up in enough medibays in his life to have the various sounds memorized. Instead of the usual beeps and chirps, with the occasional Camien song, he heard only a faint scratching. He waited for his optics to focus on the ceiling and it looked suspiciously like the one in his new hab suite. 

Sitting up to survey his surroundings, he determined that he was in fact in his own room. His neatly maintained weapon rack was mounted in the corner, the medal display case his old crew gave him as a gift hung on the wall, and there in his only chair with his feet up on his desk sat Rodimus doodling on a datapad.

Thunderclash leaned his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands pressing the heels of his palms against his optics. Something was wrong. Maybe Chromedome knicked the memory circuits in his brain and now he was hallucinating. That had to be the answer. He had heard all sorts of horror stories about shadowplay and memory manipulation. Or maybe this is some sort of side effect from whatever Sunder did to him. 

“Hey! You’re up!”

Great, now he is experiencing audio hallucinations as well. Thunderclash shivered when he felt a warm hand laid lightly on his shoulder. Maybe his nervous system isn’t responding right either, but the sensation feels so real.

“Thunders, are you alright? Should I call Velocity?”

Sliding his hands down his face enough to peer through his fingers, Thunderclash found himself optic to optic with Rodimus. 

“Are you really here?” he asked.

“Hmm? Do you mean that in a super practical Mags way or in a totally existential Drift way?”

“I’m not sure,” Thunderclash replied slowly with profound confusion, lowering his hands as he became more and more sure that this is not some sort of false memory because he couldn’t imagine what exactly Rodimus was asking. 

“We’ll go with the Magnus explanation then since I’m not quite sure how to put the Drift answer into words. Yes, I am physically here!” Rodimus gave his shoulder a squeeze and a playful shake to emphasize his presence. “After Chromedome unmangled your brain, you blacked out, again. Not that you need to be embarrassed about that, being turned inside out was a pretty terrible experience even for those of us without a complicated medical history.”

“Did you carry me up here by yourself?” Thunderclash didn’t want to underestimate Rodimus, but he was built for speed not weight lifting.

“Primus, no!” Rodimus laughed. “Unbelievable as it may be, even I have my limits. I called Ten to help me.” 

“But why didn’t I just stay in the medibay?” Thunderclash asked, still trying to work out what was going on.

“Doctor’s orders! Velocity stressed that moving you here would be the best for your recovery and suggested that I take first watch. I braved many hours of boredom, but that is the kind of sacrifice a captain must make for his crew!”

“So, Lotty told you to do this?” All the pieces fell into place.

“Bingo!” Rodimus replied.

Thunderclash shook his head with a smile. He couldn’t believe Lotty set him up with Rodimus. If you can’t trust your own doctor, who can you trust? He didn’t know if he should be incredibly grateful or incredibly annoyed.

Suddenly Rodimus grabbed his hands and although Thunderclash had the advantage in height and weight, he promptly pulled him to his feet leading him towards the door, “Time for phase two! Movement after time in stasis is vital for a quick recovery, so I am taking you on a tour of the ship.”

Feeling his face instantly warm to a blush and his spark flicker in his chest, Thunderclash decided that if he survived, the next time he sees Lotty, he’s totally going to kill her.


	6. Precious Medal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thunderclash tries desperately not to get lost as Rodimus drags him on a tour of the Lost Light. When they stop for a break the conversation turns to Thunderclash's Rodimus Star.

After a few twists, turns and maze-like corridors, Thunderclash was hopelessly lost. He knew he should at least try to pay attention, anything to assist his truly terrible sense of direction, but he just couldn’t take his optics off of Rodimus. Always in motion, the light just danced on his polished paintwork. He chattered brightly offering bits of the ship's history and always quick to laugh at his own ridiculous jokes. As Thunderclash lumbered along stiffly, still sore from his run-in with Sunder, he marveled at Rodimus’ incredible resiliency. 

Stopping to take a break in one of the shuttle bays, Thunderclash already forgot which number it was, they sat down by the open hatch. Rodimus kicked his legs over the ledge like he was on a park bench in downtown Iacon instead teetering on the edge of the vastness of space. Thunderclash joined him very carefully as the extreme openness made him a little dizzy.

“Hey, Thunders?”

“Hmm?” Thunderclash responded, staring out at the stars. Today had been so wonderful he was still half convinced that he dreamed the whole thing.

“I wanna ask you something. It’s kinda personal, but…”

Never knowing Rodimus to be at a loss for words, Thunderclash turned to face him, “Sure.”

“Look, don’t be offended or anything,” Rodimus sheepishly rubbed the back of his helm, “but I kinda looked through your stuff, while you were out.”

Thunderclash just shrugged, “I don’t really have much stuff. It’s all on display anyways.”

“Well, about that,” Rodimus continued, “I happened to notice that there’s one medal missing from your fancy display case. I know it’s not the Cybertronian Bronze Torsion Bar for Meritorious Service or whatever but I do work hard on making each Rodimus Star.”

Covering his face with one hand, Thunderclash shook his head and laughed.

“Okay, fine then!” Rodimus huffed crossing his arms, “I see how it is. No need to be rude about it!”

“No, no! Don’t misunderstand,” Thunderclash quickly replied, “My Rodimus Star isn’t in the case because it’s right here.” Without thinking, Thunderclash opened his chest panels to illustrate his point. As the silver blue light of his spark washed over them both, Thunderclash produced his medal, a little scratched and dented from being crushed during his run in with Sunder.

Looking up from his own spark chamber to show Rodimus the tiny disfigured medal in his large hand, Thunderclash finally noticed Rodimus blushing brightly.

“You kept it near you spark?!” Rodimus stammered.

“Yeah,” Thunderclash nodded, closing his chest plates, “out of all my medals, this is the only one that commemorates an event that I actually want to remember, instead of giving me nightmares. Sorry I never got a chance to thank you properly, I really do appreciate all of the effort that you put in. It was really pretty too, before it got all dented during my recent experience with renegade mnemosurgery.”

“Give it here,” Rodimus smiled, “I’m more than just a pretty face you know.” Taking the twisted medal from Thunderclash, he transformed his index finger into a fine welding torch. “The trick is to apply the right amount heat in the proper place.”

“Wow!” Thunderclash watched mesmerized as Rodimus carefully heated the bent flames on the medal and stretched them back into their original shape. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

“What?”

“What!” 

“What did you just say?” Rodimus asked as he finished his repairs, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I said, Thank you, for fixing my medal!” Thunderclash blurted out. He had been feeling pretty comfortable with Rodimus all day, but now he felt the familiar stutter in his spark.

Dropping the question with his trademark smirk, Rodimus held up the medal to admire his handiwork. The Rodimus Star looked as good as new except for the discoloration of the gold finish where he repaired the damage. “Hmm… Maybe I should just make you a new one, the heat ruined the finish in spots.”

“No way! This one is perfect!” Thunderclash carefully accepted it and replaced it in his chest compartment. “It shows the repair marks, but scars are important. They remind you that you’re strong enough to survive.”

“Huh?” Rodimus mused, “I never thought about it that way.”

They sat together in a companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts, when suddenly the captain’s comm link chirped. “Go ahead, Blaster. A distress signal? What’s our ETA? Great! I’ll see who’s up for a fight and tell Megs not to get too comfortable in the captain’s chair!”

Thunderclash listened, impressed by how quickly Rodimus agreed to respond to a call for help. There was never any question about “if” they should respond, but rather how quickly they could get there.

“Well, I hate to break up our tour,” Rodimus returned his attention to Thunderclash, “but Blaster picked up an SOS from a nearby colony. Rust giants are causing a ruckus and they’d appreciate some help. Are you up for it? I know you just got up, but rust giants are super easy and with Megs running strategy it won’t even take long. Come on, I’ll look out for you. It’ll be fun!”

Even if he was on the brink of fade out, there was no way Thunderclash could turn down an invitation like that. “Oh, I’m in! Saving the day is my second most favorite thing in the entire universe,” Thunderclash replied as he took Rodimus’ offered hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet again.

“Oh? Is that so?” Rodimus replied with a grin, “So then, what’s the first?”

“First what?”

“The thing you love most in the entire universe?”

Thunderclash froze. His mind racing through a million different responses, but the answer was always Rodimus. His incredible charisma, the way his spoiler bounces when he laughs, his infectious enthusiasm, his instant commitment to helping those in need, the sparkle in his optics when he acts on a whimsical impulse, how he accepts everyone and treats them as equals.

While Thunderclash was still figuring out how to respond, Rodimus’ grin grew even wider, like he already guessed the answer. “Well, then! Come on, Thunders!” he said with a laugh, “Let’s go save the world!”


	7. Terms of Victory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking place during MTMTE #50, Thunderclash joins the Rod Squad in protecting some organic aliens from a group of rust giants. After an easy victory, Thunderclash finds himself as an unwilling participant in a contest between Rodimus and Whirl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring guest star Whirl! I feel like Whirl is secretly the most perceptive bot on the whole crew. Despite his claims that he doesn't "do relationships" he is deeply invested in matchmaking anyone with obvious feelings for each other.

Rodimus was right, dealing with the rust giants was super easy. It was nice to get out of the ship and really let loose even if it was a pretty one sided fight. He might not be terribly proud of it, but Thunderclash had a real talent for fighting and he rather enjoyed it. If Primus didn’t intend him to kick a little tailpipe now and again, he wouldn’t have forged him with massive fists and a pair of wicked cannons. 

Megatron formulated a strategy to protect the local population and infrastructure while driving the giants off with an impressive display of force. He had Thunderclash and Ultra Magnus engage the largest rust giants, while the rest of the squad formed a defensive perimeter around the town. As Thunderclash traded earth shattering blows with his opponent, he heard a smaller one stomping around to attack his blindside. 

Suddenly a red and orange speedster screeched across the field and barreled into the second rust giant. Rodimus quickly transformed and sent the would-be attacker running with a few well aimed energy blasts.

“Thanks!” Thunderclash yelled over his shoulder as he continued to grapple with his original opponent.

“No worries, Big Shot! Told you I have your back!” Rodimus saluted before speeding off to continue their offensive. Due to his great size and general disposition, Thunderclash was used to being the one looking out for everyone else. He never had anyone watch out for him before, and honestly it was a great feeling.

Thunderclash smiled, stepped forward and threw all of his weight into a devastating right hook. The rust giant crumpled and just to be sure, Thunderclash followed up his haymaker with a double cannon blast. 

By now most of the rust giants, who had expected to meet only light resistance from a few organic colonists and not a group of battle hardened Cybertronians, had retreated. Brushing the rust from his knuckles, Thunderclash scanned the battlefield for Rodimus only to discover him facing down the last two rust giants. 

“Roddy, on your left!” Thunderclash bellowed. As Rodimus gracefully dodged to the right, Thunderclash fired both of his shoulder cannons in quick succession leveling the smaller one. Primus! Did he just call him Roddy? Hopefully Rodimus didn’t hear that part. 

Before he could recalibrate his aim, Tailgate hopped over Rodimus and utterly destroyed the last giant. Impressed by the little bot’s powerful punch, Thunderclash nodded his approval when Tailgate turned and waved enthusiastically.

Just to be sure that all of the rust giants had truly retreated, Megatron had the group split up and survey the surrounding area for any stragglers. Since he knew he’d instantly get lost in the desert by himself, Thunderclash volunteered to remain on guard by the rendezvous point. Listening to the radio chatter, it seemed like they did indeed drive off any remaining aggressors. 

Stretching out on some nearby rock formations, Thunderclash put his hands behind his helm and propped his feet up while he waited. He lazily watched the clouds roll along, reveling in the contented relief that followed an easy victory. The crackling static of the comm link broke the comfortable silence.

“The coast is totally clear! Who wants to race back?”

Rodimus’ voice brought a smile to Thunderclash lips. He could just picture him speeding across the desert landscape, still too far away to hear his revving engine.

“Rodimus, a patrol route is not a race.” Ultra Magnus stated with enough gravity to pull a moon into orbit.

“Come on, no takers?” Rodimus whined, ignoring Ultra Magnus’ protest.

“Oh, I’ll take you on… Hot Rod!” Whirl chimed in.

“You know I hate that!”

“Then do something about it, Hot Rod! Or don’t you think you’re fast enough?” Whirl goaded.

“Oh! You’re going down Whirly-bird!” Rodimus responded with gleeful determination.

Thunderclash heard the distant whine of a motor running at full throttle and the heavy thump of helicopter rotors pushed to their limit. Ultra Magnus was not going to be happy.

“Hey Whirl, we need a finish line!”

“First one to touch the winged autobrand on Thunderclash’s chest wins!” Whirl sang.

“What!?” Thunderclash bolted upright and roared into the comm link.

“You got it!” Rodimus laughed.

“You bots can’t be serious,” Thunderclash nervously scanned the horizon for the incoming racers. “Race if you want to, but leave me out of it! I am not your goal post!”

“Those are the terms of victory!” Whirl answered in a sing song voice.

At that moment a dark navy helicopter rose up over a nearby butte, prop wash kicking up a cloud of dust. Astonishingly, Rodimus kept pace with Whirl all the while dodging rocks and vegetation as he raced along the ground.

“No! I’m serious!” Thunderclash pleaded waving his arms in front of him. “I don’t need the two of you crashing into me.”

“Don’t worry,” Whirl snickered, “We’ll be gentle!”

“Hey, Thunders!” Rodimus yelled as he sped up a natural cliff and drove right off the edge launching himself into the air, “Think fast!”

“I should let you land on your own,” Thunderclash muttered as he braced himself to catch Rodimus.

“But you won’t,” Rodimus laughed as he transformed into bot mode mid-air and fell right into Thunderclash’s waiting arms.

With one golden hand planted firmly on Thunderclash’s decaled chest and the other raised in victory, Rodimus whooped, “I win!” Thunderclash didn’t know what to do, he was both annoyed and ecstatic at the same time.

Whirl hovered above, transformed into bot mode and landed lightly on his feet. “That was easier than I thought!”

Still holding a very smug Rodimus in his arms, Thunderclash felt his face practically glowing as he tried to remain upright. Already tired from their skirmish with the rust giants, having Rodimus snuggled against his chest absent-mindedly tracing the pattern of his winged decal might just put him over the edge. He just stood there, frozen, trying to decide the appropriate response to this ridiculous situation.

Throwing his claws into the air, Whirl ranted, “I can’t believe you two! ‘Hey Rodimus! Go throw yourself at Thunderclash’ ‘Oh sure okay!” he actually pulled off a fairly accurate impression. “And you!” he pointed at Thunderclash, “’Sure Rodders! Just drive off a cliff, I’ll just catch you in my big strong arms!’ It’s too easy!”

“That’s it!” Whirl leapt into the air and transformed back into his alt mode, “My talents are wasted here. I need more of a challenge.”

“Where are you going?” Rodimus called after him as he took off, still comfortably nestled in Thunderclash’s arms.

“To find Cyclonus and Tailgate!” Whirl huffed and sped away.

“What was that all about?” Thunderclash asked, both relieved and disappointed as Rodimus finally hopped down.

“Dunno, probably just mad that I totally toasted him. Thanks for the catch, by the way,” Rodimus replied as he brushed dust from his frame, “Whirl sometimes just does things. He once locked Drift and Ratchet in a closet, when they were still on the Lost Light.”

“What?! Why?”

“Who knows,” Rodimus shrugged, “Ratchet found it hilarious, until Drift sliced down the door and punched Whirl in the face,” he giggled then sighed. He looked like something was bothering him, but quickly changed the subject.

“Well, we should check on the locals before we leave,” Rodimus rubbed his chin and cast a sly glance at Thunderclash, “Wanna race?”

“Who?! Me?” Thunderclash held up one hand in flat refusal, “No way! No!”

“What’s the matter? Think you’re too slow?” Rodimus grinned.

“No! I don’t think I’m too slow, I know I’m too slow. You just raced a helicopter and won! A helicopter! He can fly! I turn into a huge eighteen wheel assault vehicle. Primus has blessed me with many gifts, but speed is not among them. There is nothing that you could possibly say that could get me to agree,” Thunderclash folded his arms across his chest.

Rodimus rubbed his palms together, “I love a challenge! How about this…” He turned to Thunderlcash with his best puppy dog eyes, “Please! Driving fast is so much fun!”

Thunderclash was prepared to deal with all manner of teasing and cajoling but not an excessive display of charm. How could a bot make his optics sparkle on demand like that? Like he already wasn’t cute enough, this is really not fair. His resolve weakening, Thunderclash decided on one last strategy, to avoid getting hopelessly lost in the desert, “How about… we just drive back together?”

“Hmm? Okay, fair enough!” Rodimus quickly agreed and shifted back into his fiery speedster. “Let’s roll out!” he shouted in a very poor Optimus impression.

Thunderclash vented a sigh of relief and laughed, “Right behind you!”


	8. Good Directions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew return to the Lost Light and Thunderclash is in desperate need of a recharge, if only he could find the way back to his room.

After accepting the locals’ gratitude and enjoying rowdy ride back to the Lost Light, they landed to discover that Velocity had setup a mobile triage unit in the shuttle bay. Since they were fighting on an alien planet, she ordered everyone to check in. Fortunately they suffered no serious casualties so after she finished checking the volunteers, Ultra Magnus being first of course, she lined up everyone else alphabetically.

Thunderclash sat at the corner of her makeshift medibay until she was almost through the entire away team, passing the time by watching Rodimus trade stories with the rest of the crew, occasionally waving when he was pointed at.

“Well, well,” Lotty chided him when it was finally his turn, “Look who just can’t take care of himself properly. So when I tell you to take it easy, you fly down to some alien world to trade fisticuffs with a band of ruffians. Is that about the way things are?”

“You know me so well!” Thunderclash grinned and wrapped her in a massive hug, picking her up and spinning around.

“Whoa!” Lotty giggled, and hugged him back just as hard, “Okay, okay! I’m happy to see you too!”

“Thank you, Lotty,” Thunderclash said with one final squeeze as he let go.

“I knew it!” Lotty grinned conspiratorially, cuffing him on the shoulder. “I see my diagnosis was correct then! Rodimus readily agreed when I asked him to keep an eye on you. Since I haven’t seen either of you much lately, I take it things are going well.”

“Yeah, really well,” Thunderclash sighed as Velocity recalibrated a few of his finger joints, “Today was fantastic. I got to spend some quality time with Rodimus, vanquish a few ruffians, help some people in need and see my favorite doctor, of course.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Lotty laughed as she put her hands on his shoulders and carefully checked his optics, evaluating their brightness. “As much as I want to hear all the details, and I definitely do,” she said with a wink, “you are seriously low on energy. Like on the verge of involuntary shut down low.” She tossed him a canister of medical grade energon, “Here, drink this, and then get a full recharge. We can catch up when you’re not about to drop over.”

“How much longer are you gonna be?” Thunderclash asked as he popped open the canister and took a few gulps.

“Well, there’s only one bot who hasn’t checked in yet,” Lotty replied as she surveyed the remaining crew members milling around. “Unfortunately, it’s Whirl so that may take a while.”

“No problem, I’ll just finish this and wait for you to be done. Then we can walk back together. My hab suite is on the way to yours, I remember that much.”

Noticing Rodimus still nearby, Lotty rubbed her hands together, “Oh, I think I have a better solution!”

Before Thunderclash could ask about her idea, Lotty yelled across the shuttle bay, “Hey! Captain!”

Rodimus’ spoiler perked up as he heard the call. He finished his conversation with Rewind and Chromedome with a cheerful wave then trotted over to the make shift medibay.

“Lotty! What are you doing?” Thunderclash hissed.

“Oh shush! You’re fine!” Lotty whispered as she pulled Thunderclash close and looked right into his optics. “Thunders, you got this! I believe in you!”

Velocity spun Thunderclash around and shoved him out the door towards Rodimus. Thunderclash cast a nervous glance over his shoulder, but his friend just flashed a grin and gave him the double thumbs up. He rolled his optics, shook his head, and chugged the rest of his energon. Okay, he could do this, just ask for directions… to his own room. Now he could add embarrassment to the list of ways he almost died. Just when things were starting to work out.

“Everything OK?” the genuine concern in Rodimus’ voice made Thunderclash melt a little.

“Yeah, no, well…” Thunderclash looked back to Velocity for help but she was already practically wrestling Whirl to keep still so she could fix his bent rotor. He was fine when he raced Rodimus, so it must have happened once he found Cyclonus.

“Rodimus, I…”

“Aww!” Rodimus pouted, “Why so formal?”

“What?”

“You called me Roddy before. I love a good nickname, in fact, I say you should never use someone’s full name if you can help it. Unless it’s Hot Rod, that one’s off the table.” Rodimus said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“That was, wait, you didn’t mind?” Thunderclash asked.

“Of course not! In fact, I think we make a great team, I’ve been telling everyone. With my speed and your power, nobody stands a chance against us!” Rodimus emphasized his point with a bit of shadowboxing that Thunderclash found absolutely adorable.

“Yeah, me too, I mean we do, I mean, Roddy I need your help,” Thunderclash blurted out.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

Thunderclash rubbed the back of his helm and looked up at the ceiling, “Could you please just point me in the direction of my hab suite. I seriously need to recharge but I’m not entirely sure of the way. I mean, Lotty usually helps with directions, but she has her hands full.” At that moment, a loud crash erupted from the triage unit followed by a round of cursing that could curdle motor oil.

“You don’t know the way to your own room?” Rodimus tilted his head to the side in disbelief.

“Nobody, except Lotty, really knows this, but I just get lost…a lot,” Thunderclash winced, he couldn’t take it if Rodimus made fun of him. Not many bots knew he was so navigationally challenged because everyone just assumed he was perfect. The fact that he was so bad at something everyone else took for granted made him more than a little self-conscious.

“No problem!” Rodimus brightly replied to Thunderclash’s immense relief, “As luck would have it, I always know where I am. Come on, it’ll be quicker if I just walk with you.” Rodimus waved goodbye to the few bots still hanging around and led Thunderclash into the maze of corridors that make up the Lost Light. 

“So, I guess that’s why you didn’t want to race before, huh?” Rodimus guessed correctly as they took the northeast corridor to the orange lift, “But if you have trouble with navigation, how where you traveling around in deep space?”

“I’ll tell you a secret,” Thunderclash laughed, “I was lost 100% of the time. I never had any idea where we were. Most of the time, we were just aimlessly wandering around.”

“No way!” Rodimus gasped. 

“It’s true.” Thunderclash shrugged as they finally turned on to a familiar hallway. “Whenever I had a vision, I just chose a direction based on what I saw. Thankfully no one really knew where we were going so it didn’t really matter.”

“So those times when our ships met, you weren’t looking for us?”

“Primus no! I couldn’t have found you even if I was looking. The fact that we managed to bump into each twice could be the result of only one of three things: The will of Primus, incredible luck, or proof that our visions were actually leading us to the same destination.”

“Yeah!” Rodimus laughed, “Right towards each other!”

Thunderclash’s spark flickered, he couldn’t believe his audio receptors. He had the same thought but could never actually say it. What was Cybertopia supposed to be anyways, a place of pure happiness? Since joining the Lost Light, Thunderclash was happier than he had ever been in his entire life, his spark was healed, he had friends, and most of all Rodimus was here. 

“You know,” Rodimus continued, “you’ve helped me a lot lately, so I’m going to return the favor. I’m gonna teach you better navigation skills, or at the very least help you to memorize the Lost Light’s layout. After all, this is your home too!”

“I don’t know, I haven’t really done much at all.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Rodimus replied quietly, looking down at his feet, “Even though I am pretty fantastic, deep down, I constantly doubt myself. I only act so confident because I am a firm believer in the ‘fake-it-til-you-make-it’ philosophy. It’s probably selfish, but I really like having you around because when you believe in me, it’s easier for me to believe in me, if that makes sense.” 

“How can you not believe in yourself when you are so amazing?” Thunderclash waved his hands around for emphasis. “You saved my life! You’re working side by side with Megatron, THE Megatron! The word impossible loses all meaning in your presence!” 

“See! That’s what I’m talking about! That’s the good stuff right there!” Rodimus basked in his praise as they stopped at Thunderclash’s door, “Seriously though, comm me when you get up and we’ll work on your location skills, together.”

“Thank you… Roddy,” Thunderclash could feel the dopey grin spreading across his face but was too tired to care.

“Have a good recharge,” Rodimus tapped his hand gently on the autobrand on Thunderclash’s chest, “and I’ll see you tomorrow, Thunders.”

Since he couldn’t trust himself to form coherent words at the moment, Thunderclash just smiled and waved as he went into his hab suite. Collapsing into his berth, he was offline before his head hit the pillow and for the first time in a long while, he dreamed only good dreams.


	9. Empty Static

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thunderclash wakes up from a long recharge and can't contact anyone. Running into Hoist doesn't exactly help his concerns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking place during the Mutineers Trilogy, LL#11-13, things are about to get a little tough for poor Thunderclash.

Thunderclash woke up in his darkened hab suite feeling better than he had in a long time. All systems came online smoothly and comfortably. Checking his internal chronometer, he winced when he realized just how long it had taken to get a full recharge. He vowed to be more careful. Lotty was right, as always, he needed to keep better track of himself and recharge more often.

Easing open his chest compartment, the light of his spark filled the room with a soft silver blue glow. He carefully took out his Rodimus Star and examined the repairs Rodimus made, gently tracing his fingers along the engraved design. The medal was so ridiculous, so meticulously crafted, so deeply personal, that it made him smile every time. Now the patchwork colored repairs matched his own scarred spark which only further endeared it to him. Placing back near his spark, he closed his panels and finally got up.

Wobbling as he stretched out his stiff joints, he realized that the extra-long recharge cycle had depleted his fuel supply. Filling up on energon would be a perfect opportunity to catch up with Lotty. He has so much to tell her! Smiling as he brought up her personal comm frequency, he hoped she had a light schedule for the next few hours because they had plenty to discuss. 

His first attempt to contact her yielded only static. Unusual, Lotty always answered right away. He double checked the frequency and tried again, with the same result. Figuring she might be tending to a patient, he brought up Nautica’s frequency. If Lotty was busy, Nautica would know. Strangely, her comm link also crackled with empty static. Thunderclash tapped the side of his helm. Maybe he damaged his comm link fighting the rust giants. 

Shaking his head to try and clear out any possible dust in his communications circuits, he tried again to no avail. Thunderclash shrugged, guess he would just have to walk to the medibay to find Lotty in person. They could then decide where to hang out, he was thinking the corner booth at Swerve’s, and she could take a look at his malfunctioning comm system. Fortunately he meticulously studied the way from his hab suite to the medibay.

As he prepared to leave, Thunderclash noticed something on the floor, obviously shoved under his door. Stooping down to pick it up, he discovered a small datapad with an extremely simple sketch of the layout of the Lost Light. Only a few rooms were marked, his hab suite, Swerve’s, the medibay, and the main lifts. Turning it over, he laughed out loud at the doodled self portrait of a grinning Rodimus pointing right at him with the inscription “There you are!” It was just too adorable! Sliding the simple map into his wrist pocket, Thunderclash beamed. He couldn’t wait to show Lotty. He knew she would tease him about it, but the simple map was exactly on his level and it might even come in handy.

Humming one of the Camien tunes he remembering Lotty singing when he was confined to the Vis Vitale medibay, Thunderclash set off to find his friend. His heavy footsteps echoing through the empty hall began to kindle a growing sense of unease. He stopped humming because it sounded extraordinarily loud and harsh in the oppressive silence. He tried to reassure himself that the immense size of the Lost Light, 15 miles long and 10 miles across, gave the crew of 200 plenty of space to spread out.

Feeling a wave of relief when he finally arrived at the medibay, Thunderclash turned to enter and slammed loudly into the closed door. Now he was really starting to worry. Normally the door sensor recognized an entering bot and slid open. Lotty never, ever locked the automatic medibay door unless there was a real emergency, like with Sunder. 

Struggling with growing panic, he brought up Rodimus’ comm frequency. For once he was more worried about what to do if Rodimus didn’t answer. Unfortunately he only received more static. As a last desperate attempt, he tried Megatron’s personal frequency. As co-captain, Megatron gave it to all crew members, but Thunderclash was willing to bet no one ever called him. Again, empty crackling static filled the air. 

Brushing his fears aside, Thunderclash pounded on the medibay door, telling himself over and over that everything was fine and his comm link must need repairs. 

“Lotty?” he called tentatively. “Are you in there? Why is the door locked?”

“Sorry, sorry!” a voice answered from inside, “I’m still trying to figure everything out in here!”

After several crashes and the sound of hurried scrambling, the door opened, revealing a frantic green bot with a crane attachment and slotted face plate. Thunderclash remembered his from Swerve’s official crew introductions as Hoist.

“Thunderclash!” he cried in surprise promptly falling backwards with a clang, “Oh, Primus! Please be OK! I’m a decent field medic, but not a spark specialist.”

“Not to worry,” Thunderclash replied with a comforting smile as he reached down to help the bot up, “No spark trouble today. I am actually just looking for Velocity, the acting chief medical officer, green and teal Camien, gold optics, about so tall. Have you seen her today, Hoist?” 

“Thunderclash knows my name!” Hoist swooned, in danger of falling again.

“Yes, and you know mine, so we’re even. Please focus.” Thunderclash reached out to steady him.

Hoist looked around the room nervously, “I don’t know exactly where she is.”

“Do you know generally where she is?”

“Maybe? I’m not sure.”

Thunderclash shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Any relief he felt upon discovering he wasn’t alone was quickly dissolving into frustration. Being this low on fuel always gave him a short temper. Venting a deep sigh to try to dispel his impatience, Thunderclash decided to attempt a different approach.

“Nevermind. Since you’re here, could you take a look at my comm link system. I couldn’t get any responses earlier.”

“I would be honored!” Hoist brightened. “Anything for you!”

Bending down on one knee, Thunderclash leaned forward so Hoist could inspect the side of his helm.

“Everything looks ok. What type of trouble were you having?”

“When I tried to contact anyone, I just get static.”

Hoist held up one finger, “That’s an easy one. Static generally means you’re trying to reach someone out of range. Here,” Hoist offered his personal comm frequency, “Try me.”

Bringing up the comm system, Thunderclash connected easily to Hoist. “Why can I reach you, but not Lotty?” Thunderclash asked as feelings of concern came flooding back.

“I told you, out of range.”

Thunderclash shook his head, “That’s impossible. The Lost Light is big, but not that big. If everything is functioning, I should be able to reach Lotty from anywhere on the ship. But it’s not just her. I haven’t been able to reach Nautica, Rodimus, or Megatron either.”

“Megatron!” Hoist shivered. “Why would you try to call him? If it wasn’t for him and his DJD, Trailcutter would still…” he trailed off and turned away, hugging his arms around himself.

“Hoist? Are you ok?”

“Yeah, no, I’m sorry.” Hoist’s shoulders sagged.

Thunderclash encountered enough loss and grief during his time wandering the galaxies to recognize the signs. “Why don’t you tell me about Trailcutter?” he asked as gently as possible. True he needed to find his friends, but he couldn’t abandon a bot in need. Sometimes just telling stories about a lost friend helped a lot.

“I just can’t right now.” Hoist sighed and began to busy himself sorting supplies. “I just have a lot to get through here.”

“Well, when you’ve made progress organizing, you know how to find me,” Thunderclash laid a supportive hand on Hoist’s shoulder and tapped the side of his helm. “We have each other’s personal comm frequencies now.”

“Th-Thank you,” Hoist stammered, his face glowing beneath his faceplate.

“I’ll leave you to your business,” Thunderclash waved as he tried to contact Rodimus’ comm frequency again and again. “If you see Lotty, tell her to comm me.”

“About that…” Hoist focused his optics on the floor, “You should really just talk to Getaway or Atomizer.”

At the mention of those names a cold shock of realization gripped Thunderclash’s spark. They did talk to him about something in Swerve’s, back when he first joined the Lost Light. Upset about Megatron, Getaway mentioned something about a plan, but all he could remember was Rodimus, his graceful acrobatics and snappy argument with Swerve. The way his red and gold paint work sparkled as he winked and sped out of the bar. Thunderclash shook his head to clear his thoughts, now he was the one that needed to focus. 

“Where can I find them?” Thunderclash asked. He needed to get to the bottom of this situation as quickly as possible. Fear and resentment could push rational bots to do terrible things. He didn’t survive millions of years of war to lose Rodimus now, not when they are just starting to get close.


	10. One Second Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thunderclash discovers that he accidentally agreed to a mutiny.
> 
> Takes place during LL #11.

Armed with his tiny map from Rodimus and directions from Hoist, Thunderclash set out to find the bridge of the Lost Light. Tripping over his own feet, he realized that he still needed to refuel. Not wanting to disturb Hoist again, he checked his map and decided to stop by Swerve’s first. He could get some energon and maybe talk to someone else about what was going on.

Using Rodimus’ map, Thunderclash only made one wrong turn but otherwise found Swerve’s fairly easily. Any hopes of talking to someone else quickly evaporated when he discovered the bar completely empty.

“Swerve? Ten?” Thunderclash called out in the darkness. Someone was always here. At all hours either Swerve or Ten, usually both, tended the bar always ready to serve a customer. ‘It’s 5 o’clock somewhere’ was one of Swerve’s many favorite sayings gleaned from Earth culture. 

All the fears and concerns that his meeting with Hoist had started to assuage came flooding back. Thunderclash helped himself to a hearty portion of filtered energon, resisting the urge to follow the standard fuel with a shot of Roadmaster’s triple distilled engex. Refueling alone, in the dark, struggling with the irrational fear that something terrible befell his friends; this is not how he had thought today was going to go. He washed his own glass and left the cost of the drink, plus tip, on Swerve’s cash box.

Unfortunately, his little map did not include the location of the bridge. Thunderclash figured it had to be near the front and the top of the massive vessel. After minimal wandering around in solitude, he came to the ornate double doors that must lead to the ship’s command center. Stepping through the doors, Thunderclash realized that the rest of the ship seemed so empty because many of the bots were here. Relieved to see some of the other crew members, Thunderclash still didn’t see any of the bots he was really looking for. 

“Thunderclash! So glad to see you up and about!” Getaway called out. Looking up, Thunderclash saw him sprawled sideways across the captain’s chair, one leg casually draped over the armrest. 

“I’m looking for Rodimus. Have you seen him?” Thunderclash asked, noting that his question caused the rest of the crew to exchange nervous glances.

“Pfft! Why? He’s gone. Him and the rest of Megatron’s cheerleaders. Look around, the plan worked great!” Getaway waved his arms, gesturing to everyone busy with their tasks on the bridge.

“Gone?! Plan? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t… Don’t you remember?” Atomizer stammered. “We discussed it in detail, you agreed to everything.”

“Agreed? You know what, let’s all assume that I have no idea. Someone better start talking, now.” Thunderclash folded his arms across his broad chest, his patience for guessing games waning fast.

“Oh come on! Blackouts messing with your memory?” Getaway tapped the side of his helm then hopped up and began to pace around. “We met you in Swerve’s and told you all about our plan for a mutiny to get Megatron off the ship. In fact, we talked to every last crewmember and made a list of those who didn’t want to go through with it. Sadly, any bot who would side with that tyrant also had to go. Interesting side note, I didn’t actually even ask Whirl, I just wanted him gone. That bot is nothing but trouble. Anyways, we finally saw our opportunity and everything worked out perfectly! With a new command structure and a Decepticon free environment we can really make progress.”

“Yeah!” Atomizer chimed in, “We laid out the whole deal and you agreed we were on to something. ‘Yeah sure’ you said. ‘Good plan’ you said. With you on board, we knew we could succeed, first in getting Megatron and his sympathizers off the ship and then in finding Cybertopia.”

Thunderclash dragged a palm down his face. THAT’s what they were chattering about that day when he only had eyes for Rodimus in Swerve’s. For Rust’s sake. “I don’t recall any of that conversation,” he stated flatly. He chose to leave out the reason for his lack of focus. He should have at least tried to pay attention, but he couldn’t resist Rodimus’ effortless charm. Great, now he could add guilt to the fear and frustration already swirling around in his spark.

“Regardless,” Getaway shrugged, “It’s already done. We picked up a strange signal in space and when Rodimus went to investigate with Megatron, we made sure any bot who would support Megs went along for the ride. It was supposed to be a short routine out and back mission, but a simple sabotage to the Rod Pod’s quantum engines will prevent them from returning. That leaves us to continue our quest undistracted. Easy as taking cyber candy from a protoform. Who says change of command has to be messy?”

“You sabotaged their way home?!” Thunderclash yelled, louder than he intended, attracting the attention of everyone on the bridge. Sensing an argument brewing, a few bots quietly backed out of the room. “How many of our friends and crewmates are now lost in space?”

“20, 25, it doesn’t really matter,” Getaway replied. “It was a necessary sacrifice to get Megatron off of this ship, for the greater good. Besides, the whole point of this quest is to find Cybertopia.”

“There is no such thing as a necessary sacrifice and there is no greater good than loyalty to one’s friends! The whole point is to explore the universe, to try to make things better for once, like Rodimus talked about in his magnificent recruitment speeches. None of us came through that war without energon on our hands. We all know how to fight, but we really need to learn how to live together. That means not abandoning our friends when things don’t go our way,” Thunderclash didn’t really intend to start giving a speech, but sometimes they just happen. He can’t help it if Primus gifted him with such eloquence.

“Captain? I’m picking up a signal…” Blaster hesitantly piped up. 

“Not now!” Getaway waved dismissively before returning to his argument with Thunderclash. “What are you trying to say? Cybertopia is the friends we met along the way? It’s not the destination, it’s the journey? Oh Puh-leeze!”

“That is a gross oversimplification, but yes, something along those lines. Cybertopia as a destination is meaningless if we don’t search for it together. Besides, this whole trip was Rodimus’ idea, and the Lost Light belongs to him. We all agreed to follow him, as our captain. He needs to be here.”

“All that changed when Megatron came on board. A Decepticon warlord in charge of an Autobot vessel? I cannot believe you of all bots would find that acceptable. He personally ordered your execution and the failed attempt crippled you for life! And me, I got thrown into his war as soon as I came online. My systems could barely function and I was already being shot at. All of us here understand what I am talking about. That is way we banded together to get him out of our lives.”

Thunderclash was quickly losing patience. All of his worry and guilt began to morph into rage. Rodimus, Lotty, and who knows who else were stranded somewhere in the disabled Rod Pod and he was stuck debating post-war philosophy with Getaway. 

“Sir? I really think…”

“Blaster! It can wait!” Getaway cut off his communications officer again.

“Megatron ordered my execution, but do you know why? Because I’ve killed more than a fair share of his soldiers. The righteousness of our cause doesn’t make them any less dead. We’ve all done things in the war that we regret, things that we would like to undo. Look, all of us deserve one second chance, a chance to realize the wrong that we’ve done in our lives and try to make it right. A chance to make the universe better instead of worse. That’s why Rodimus brought us all together. That's what I joined him to do.” Thunderclash struggled to keep his tone even while his engine began to rev.

“Give me one reason, one, solitary reason that I should give Megatron, or any of his sympathizers, a second chance.” 

“Because,” Thunderclash growled, “I am giving you your one second chance right now. Turn this ship around and go back for Rodimus and the others.” Though he meant to offer an opportunity for change, it really came out more like a threat.

A dreadful silence descended on the bridge. All optics darted between Getaway and Thunderclash. Each second seemed to stretch out for an eternity. The last thing he wanted to do right now was start a fight with his comrades because he knew that they acted out of fear and hurt. However they put Rodimus, Lotty, and everyone else in danger and for that he would throw down with every last one of them. Trying to keep a handle on his rising anger, Thunderclash clenched his fists so hard he could feel his fingertips dig into his palms. 

The slow sharp whine of the bending metal seemed to jolt Blaster into action. He looked around the room, set his jaw and flipped a few switches. Suddenly all the vid screens in the bridge blazed to life at once, lighting up with Rodimus’ face. His paint was obviously scuffed and scraped while his blue optics burned with righteous fury.

“This is Rodimus of Nyon and I’m incredibly pissed off! By the time you hear this, we’ll all be dead, murdered by the Decepticon Justice Division.”


	11. It's Nothing Personal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While watching Rodimus' last will and testament message, Thunderclash has flashbacks of his own encounter with the DJD.
> 
> Takes place during Lost Light #11.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight warning for heartbreak, things get a little tougher for poor Thunders than he was expecting.
> 
> On a lighter note, there's a cameo of my favorite problematic otp: Prowl/tables

Thunderclash watched Rodimus’ transmission describing how, as result of Getaway’s mutiny, they were stranded and cornered by the DJD, his white hot rage cooling to pure terror. He studied Rodimus’ face, the tone of his words. Buried under the simmering threats of revenge and flashing bravado, Thunderclash could see hints of fear. Rodimus was afraid, for himself sure, but mainly for his crew. He took his captaincy very seriously and was fiercely protective of all bots under his command, they had that much in common.

With the first mention of the DJD, Thunderclash flashed back to his own encounter with Megatron’s executioners. All the memories rushed through his brain in an instant, leaving him chilled and exhausted. After Thunderclash played a pivotal role in a decisive Autobot victory, Prowl intercepted a Decepticon comm transmission of Megatron placing him at the top of the hit list. 

The news froze his spark, first out of fear for his own life but then for that of his crew. How many of them might get caught in the crossfire. Despite Prowl’s stern warnings to keep a low profile, Thunderclash decided to make himself the most obvious target possible in order to draw attention away from the rest of his comrades. His picked all his favorite colors, cobalt blue, magenta, and the brightest turquoise imaginable and updated his paintwork, complete with gold accents and a shimmering pearl topcoat. As a final act of defiance, he added the teal wings on his chest, finishing a look so bright and cheerful he practically dared the DJD to come and get him. When he sauntered into his first debriefing with the new colors, Prowl instantly flipped over the enormous command center table, flinging maps and half full glasses of energon everywhere.

Needless to say his strategy worked all too well. Eventually the DJD caught up to his unit and Tarn blasted a gaping hole in Thunderclash’s colorful chest. Although that wound crippled him for life, every other member of his crew survived the encounter unscathed. His hand unconsciously went to his chest as he could practically feel the searing heat of the plasma bolt that tore through his spark. From that moment on his life became an endless string of medical procedures, life support, and constant pain. And now Tarn set his sights on Rodimus, Lotty, and the rest. He only hoped that Rodimus could come up with a better strategy to protect his crew. The possibility of Rodimus enduring the same torment chilled his spark.

Rodimus’ incredibly detailed last wishes about having his body turned into a gun and hiring a bounty hunter to use his remains to shoot Getaway in the face held the attention of the every optic on the bridge until the screens all simultaneously went blank mid rant.

“Oops! Lost transmission,” Getaway shrugged, innocently kicking a severed wire behind the main communications console.

“It was probably fake anyway,” Atomizer added.

“Fake?” Thunderclash barked a curt laugh, “Oh, I don’t think so!” That last will was pure Rodimus, totally unexpected, a little irreverent and oddly optimistic. Sending a message facing certain death, most bots would try to resolve past sins, reach out to loved ones, maybe wallow in self-pity. Not Rodimus, he just refuses to give up. Who else could concoct a plan to weaponize his remains in a convoluted revenge scheme that includes hiring Death’s Head? Who else could even recall that ridiculous freelance peacekeeping agent at a time like this? Under different circumstances, Thunderclash would have found the whole thing hilarious.

Before anyone else could chime in, Getaway quickly shoved everyone off the bridge, “Return to your posts! We have a quest to continue! Thunderclash, you stay here with me and Atomizer and we can sort this all out.”

Rage hardened into steely unshakeable determination, Thunderclash waited for everyone to scurry away then drawing himself up to his full impressive height, he held up one hand to stop Getaway from speaking, “Whatever you are going to say, save it. I am done trying to convince you of anything. I am leaving.”

“What?! You can’t leave,” Getaway protested. “Everyone respects you. If you leave, things will fall apart. Besides, that message was probably not even real.”

“We both know that there was nothing fake about that message,” Thunderclash growled. “Do what you want, find Cyberutopia, I really don’t care. I am taking a shuttle to find Rodimus, and that’s not a threat, it’s a fact.”

“Stay here, help us complete the quest, your visions had to be leading you somewhere. I’ll admit things maybe got a bit out of hand, but if you go, you’ll just be wasting time that could be better spent here. Besides, no one survives the DJD.”

“I survived the DJD!” Thunderclash roared, “Crippled but alive, and I’m half the bot Rodimus is. He has the uncanny ability to will the impossible into reality. Lotty has looked after me for years, if there’s even the smallest chance I can help her, I’ll take it. While we’re on the subject, let’s not forget about the reason you set us on this course.”

“Don’t you dare bring him up again!” Atomizer stepped in, jabbing a golden finger at Thunderclash’s winged chest. “Getting rid of Megatron is the only thing that makes the whole mutiny worthwhile. If a few more autobots have to die, at least their sacrifice won’t be in vain.”

“You really think you can ‘get rid of Megatron’?” Thunderclash yelled. “The combined might of the entire Autobot army, including the likes of Optimus Prime and Arcee, couldn’t kill him in four million years of warfare, so I sincerely doubt a handful of his old students can get the job done. Someone, hopefully everyone, will survive. I am going to find them, and once I ask around, I guarantee I won’t be going alone.” 

Thunderclash turned his back on them both and stalked towards the door. He certainly hoped someone else would join him. Although he could pilot a shuttle well enough, without a competent navigator he might be looking from Rodimus and the others for a very long time. Of course maybe Rodimus would find him first, it’s worked before.

Just as he opened the bridge exit doors, Thunderclash felt a sharp twinge in his throat. Bringing his hand to the source of the pain he discovered one of Atomizer’s crossbow bolts protruding from his vocal processor. Choking on the energon rapidly welling up around the wound, Thunderclash whirled around and snapped the crossbow in half with one hand.

“Sorry!” Atomizer pleaded, backing away hands up in surrender, “Sorry, it’s nothing personal.”

Never one to strike a repentant attacker, Thunderclash lowered his clenched fist when a blow to the back of his head dropped him to his knees.

“Yeah, I’m sorry too.” He heard Getaway say from behind him. “Sorry this didn’t work out better for the both of us. The nudge gun here is New Institute tech, it disrupts your brain waves directly so it’s quick and clean. Usually it’ll just cause a headache and a few missing memories. In fact, it’s what I used to make anyone who didn’t agree to the mutiny forget the whole conversation. I think in this case, we better turn up the setting all the way up to unconscious. At least until I figure out what to do with you.”

Another blow landed hard, like Solus Prime had his brain in her forge. Fighting for consciousness, Thunderclash focused on an image of Rodimus from after winning his race with Whirl, smiling with his sparkling puppy dog eyes. He would do anything for that face. On his hands and knees, Thunderclash tore the arrow from his own throat and began to crawl towards the still open door, picturing Rodimus egging him on, ‘Come on, please! You can do it, for me!’

“Why won’t you just stay down already!” Getaway whined as he fired another shot, then another, and another. “I guess this gun is a little under-sized for you.”

Thunderclash dropped to the floor, all strength fading from his limbs and the edges of his vision blurring as the nudge gun continued to directly affect his brain. Looking up desperately at the door he noticed a tall cerulean bot with aquatic features peering around the frame, his gold optics wide with shock and terror. Riptide! Unable to form words with his leaking vocal processor, Thunderclash tried to gesture to Riptide to run. Run away and get help. If Getaway sees him, Riptide could be in danger too.

Before he could devise a way to effectively signal Riptide, Getaway shot him again. Thunderclash’s head hit the floor with a hollow clang as the world faded to black. His last thought a silent apology to Rodimus.


	12. Saved by the Boat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riptide to the rescue! 
> 
> Thunderclash wakes up from a memory induced coma to discover First Aid has returned but conditions on the Lost Light have gotten even worse.
> 
> Takes place during Lost Light #12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry/not sorry about the chapter title. I love Riptide.

Thunderclash followed Rodimus through twists, turns, and maze-like corridors. He just couldn’t take his optics off of Rodimus. Always in motion, the light just danced on his polished paintwork. He chattered brightly offering bits of the ships history and always quick to laugh at his own ridiculous jokes. As Thunderclash lumbered along stiffly, still sore from his run-in with Sunder, he marveled at Rodimus’ incredible resiliency. 

Stopping to take a break in one of the shuttle bays, Thunderclash already forgot which number it was, they sat down by the open hatch. Rodimus kicked his legs over the ledge like he was on a park bench in downtown Iacon instead teetering on the edge of the vastness of space. Thunderclash joined him very carefully as the extreme openness made him a little dizzy.

“Hey, Thunders?”

“Hmm?” Thunderclash responded, staring out at the stars. Today had been so wonderful he was still half convinced that he dreamed the whole thing. In fact he had a strange nagging sensation that he had done this once before.

Without warning Rodimus reached out, grabbed Thunderclash his armor-plated shoulder panels and began to shake him violently. “Wake up! Oh please, oh please, oh please! Just wake up!”

Well, that was unexpected.

The more Rodimus shook him, the more his vision began to blur. Rodimus faded and changed, becoming leaner, taller, bluer. His optics shifted from sparkling blue to bright gold while the starry sky melted away to reveal the inside walls of the medibay.

Not-Rodimus adjusted his grip and shouted more urgently, punctuating each word with another jolt, “Come on, Come on! You’re almost there! Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

Thunderclash cycled his optics rapidly, trying to make sense of the situation. His head ached but gradually his vision cleared. He was on a recharge slab in the medibay being frantically awakened by… Riptide? Riptide! Suddenly all his memories came crashing back so fast it made his head spin. Muntineers have commandeered the Lost Light, Rodimus and the others are lost in space, stalked by the DJD, Getaway and Atomizer both shot him. He remembered seeing Riptide before he blacked out. Somehow he must have escaped and saved him.

“Riptide!” Thunderclash bolted upright and wrapped him in a huge hug. “I am so glad that you’re safe!”

To his surprise, Riptide fully leaned into his embrace and snuggled against Thunderclash’s broad chest. “The rumors are true! You do give the best hugs!”

Rumors?! What rumors? Thunderclash could feel his face warming with a blush as he wondered if Rodimus ever heard those rumors. Focus! No time for that now, daydreaming about Rodimus got him enough trouble already. He shook his head to clear his thoughts then gently pulled Riptide to arm’s length to check him for injury.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” Thunderclash asked, carefully looking up and down his lean aquatic frame. “I was worried if Getaway and Atomizer knew that you saw them attack me, they might try to hurt you.”

“Oh, that!” Riptide waved one hand dimissively, “No, they totally tried to kill me. Turns out, I’m immune!” Riptide flashed a grin full of shark teeth, looking extremely pleased with himself.

“Immune? To being killed?” Thunderclash scratched his helm. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s true! First Aid told me so.”

“What I told you was that you are immune to the effects of the nudge gun, not that you are immortal,” First Aid said flatly as he entered the room. He pointed an accusatory finger at Riptide, “and did you wake up Thunderclash the same way you woke me up? There is a much gentler way to break the memory loop. You didn’t have to jostle him to pieces. According to the medical records, Hoist just repaired his torn vocal processor. While Hoist can stabilize a dying bot with an old spark plug and a rusty wingnut in the middle of a fire fight, precise permanent repairs aren’t really his strong suit.”

“No harm done,” Thunderclash reassured Riptide. Turning to First Aid he continued, “I’m so glad that you’re back! You need to know…”

“Whatever you think is going on aboard the Lost Light, I assure it’s actually much, much worse. Now hold still,” First Aid responded as he examined his throat repairs. “Hoist’s work will hold for a while if you’re careful, remind me to fix this properly later.”

Thunderclash nodded his thanks before blurting out, “Getaway lead a mutiny, exiled Rodimus, Lotty, and several others, set the DJD after them, shot me and tried to kill Riptide. How could it get any worse?!”

First Aid just folded his arms across his chest, “Well for starters, Getaway has allied himself with Sunder, who he had trap you, me and the rest of the Protectobots in a memory loop, leaving us comatose while our brains replay the same events over and over. He altered the memories of everyone else to forget the plight of Rodimus and the others. Then he murdered several members of the crew, including my new comrade Rook, and fed their lifecords to Sunder as payment for services rendered. Everyone on board is completely under his control and he will do anything to keep it that way.”

Jaw dropping in shock, Thunderclash stammered, “Okay, that is way worse than I thought.”

Riptide leaned on Thunderclash’s shoulder, golden optics shining with mischief, “This is getting too serious! On a different note, First Aid said that happy memories make a tougher memory loop. You were harder to wake up soooo… a shanix for your thoughts?”

A dreamy smile spread across Thunderclash’s face as he recalled Rodimus doubled over in laughter, leaning on his side for support after telling a particularly ridiculous joke, “Well,” he sighed, “I was…”

“Enough!” First Aid cut him off while Riptide giggled, “You two can gossip after we all get off this ship. I already sent Mirage ahead to find our shuttle, but he hasn’t checked in. I’m going to make sure the rest of the Protectobots have come back online okay, then we need to get moving.”

Thunderclash nodded and moved to follow First Aid into the main medibay recovery room when Riptide grabbed his hand and pulled him to a stop. 

“Thunderclash, wait. I need to…” Riptide’s shoulders sagged and he kept his optics on the floor. “Look, I screwed up, big time. I agreed to go along with the mutiny because it was Megatron. I mean come on! Megatron?! Really? It wasn’t fair for him to be in command of an Autobot ship. In the beginning, Getaway promised no one would get hurt, but even then it still felt kinda wrong. Now the DJD is involved, Sunder is loose, and everything is terrible.” 

Riptide’s head remained bowed, but his optics turned up to meet Thunderclash’s, “That speech you gave on the bridge really got to me. I want my second chance. I want to try to fix this mess.”

“I agreed to go along with the mutiny too. Let’s just say smiling and nodding along to a conversation when I can’t focus is a very bad idea. All that aside, I will find Rodimus and nothing in this or any universe will stop me. We all make mistakes but we don’t all try to make amends,” Thunderclash gently smiled. “You rescued me, First Aid, and his friends at great risk to your own life. We all owe you a great deal of thanks.”

“No, thank you!” Riptide melted with relief. “I thought maybe you might not trust me to come with you. Because… you know…”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Thunderclash laughed. “We are in this together. Come on let’s catch up with First Aid.”

“I still feel terrible about the whole thing,” Riptide sighed and looked up at him sheepishly. “I think… I need another hug... Please?” he added hopefully.

“Bring it in, buddy!” Thunderclash opened his arms wide and embraced Riptide again, “Everything’s gonna be okay.” Honestly, Thunderclash didn’t feel quite that confident, but he decided to take a page from Rodimus’ book and fake-it-til-you-make-it.


	13. All Together Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thunderclash and Riptide join First Aid as he tries to keep the Protectobots on task long enough to attempt an escape.
> 
> Takes place during Lost Light #12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First Aid tries so hard. It's not his fault the rest of the Protectobots have no focus at all.
> 
> Also featuring more giant robot hugs!

Thunderclash and Riptide found First Aid and the rest of the Protectobots in the corner of the medibay, next to the morgue.

“Riptide, Thunderclash,” First aid gestured to the bots surrounding him, “Meet Hot Spot, Blades, Groove, and Streetwise. We call ourselves the Protectobots because we’re all first responders who recently obtained the ability to combine into a gestalt, Defensor. It’s a long story.”

“Sweet Solus Prime! It’s really Thunderclash!” Blades whispered to Groove.

“Wow!” Groove swooned. “Pictures don’t do him justice! That pearl topcoat just shimmers!”

“I know right,” Streetwise sighed.

“Without Rook, we will need a stand in for our right leg,” First Aid carried on, paying no heed to his excited companions whispering amongst themselves.

“STAND-in,” Riptide giggled. “Get it? Because you need a leg.”

First Aid dragged his palm down his face, muttering, “Ambulon would’ve hated that.” 

Ignoring Riptide’s snickering, he opened the morgue and wheeled out a gray corpse with terrible paintwork. “This is… was Ambulon. We are… um, were…” First Aid coughed, then rushed into a rapid explanation. “He served with me on Delphi, before Pharma killed him. The Decepticons experimented on him during their quest to form a combiner, but he never wanted anyone to know. He was always so sensitive about his alt mode, I mean turning into a leg is not usually the most practical, but right now, we…” First Aid ran out of steam and trailed off with a ragged sigh.

Noticing his distress, Riptide instantly stopped giggling and straightened up, “I’m sorry, First Aid, it’s ok. Do you need a hug?”

“What?! No! There’s no time for that…”

“Come on!” Riptide coaxed him, flashing a fanged smile, and opened his arms wide just like Thunderclash did for him. “Bring it in!” First Aid hesitated at first then accepted Riptide’s offer and allowed himself to be wrapped up by the larger aquatic bot. 

“Everything’s gonna be ok,” Riptide reassured him.

“Hey! Can I get in on this too?” Blades asked.

“Yeah! I have a feeling getting off of this ship might be really tough.” Streetwise added.

Groove just sighed, “I miss Rook.”

“Group hug!” Thunderclash gathered them all together around First Aid and Riptide with his huge arms. He couldn’t help but notice that none of them were as warm as Rodimus.

“Okay! Okay!” First Aid started to squirm. “If we don’t get moving, we won’t be going anywhere! Thunderclash, could you carry Ambulon in your trailer in case we need Defensor?”

Releasing them all, Thunderclash nodded, “I’ll have to transform in the hall because my alt mode won’t fit through the medibay doors. I really appreciate you asking and I would be honored to help.”

“Finally!!” Hot Spot exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “Finally someone else understands! So many people think they can just take liberties with a large alt mode. Just because I turn into a fire truck doesn’t mean I always want to haul everyone around all the time. I usually don’t mind, but least ask first!”

“Oh no! It’s the Big Bot Commiseration Club!” Groove laughed.

“What do you know? At least Thunderclash gets it. No one ever piles all the cargo on the motorcycle.” Hot Spot grumped.

“Could we all just focus! Please!” First Aid and Blades had already carefully lifted Ambulon. “Once we leave the medibay, we have to move quickly. Mirage hasn’t come back to check in and I’m starting to worry.”

“Starting? You always worry, it’s like your default setting,” Blades chimed in, earning a glare from First Aid. “In fact, I don’t start to worry until you’ve hit panic.”

Thunderclash shifted into his bulky alt mode and opened his trailer for Ambulon. He didn’t want to ask how they could combine with a dead bot, especially after seeing First Aid get so upset. Combiner technology must have progressed quite a bit since he last visited Cyberton. Hopefully they won’t even need to form Defensor and they could all slip away undetected. Although if they do have to fight, he had a special message in mind for Getaway on behalf of Rodimus.

Ambulon secure, First Aid nodded to their motley crew, “Okay everyone, for the fastest possible travel, transform and roll out!”

The rest of the Protectobots quickly shifted into their alt modes, fire truck, motorcycle, ambulance, helicopter, police cruiser, and revved their engines. 

Riptide stood by, shoulders sagged, looking utterly dejected, “But… I turn into a boat.”

“Come on!” Thunderclash laughed, “Climb aboard!”

“Really?” Riptide squealed.

“Yes really! No bot left behind! Let’s go!”

Riptide excitedly clambered up onto Thunderclash’s roof and the convoy raced towards the shuttle bay, First Aid in the lead. It felt good to finally take action. He didn’t ask how long he had been trapped in the memory loop, he never liked to focus on time lost. All he knew was that he was going to get off this ship and find Rodimus if he had to personally fight every poor brainwashed bot on the entire vessel.

Suddenly Mirage appeared out of thin air directly in front of First Aid causing the entire convoy to screech to a stop. Thunderclash slammed on his brakes and felt Riptide tighten his grip. Despite his best efforts, he still skidded into Groove and Hot Spot.

“Hey! Watch it!” the angry motorcycle beeped.

“My apologies,” Thunderclash backed up slowly. “I could use a little more warning next time. My eighteen wheels aren’t very nimble but I do try my best.”

“Exactly!” Hot Spot agreed. “I told you a million times, we big bots can’t stop on a shanix! Nobody appreciates the skill it takes to maneuver around in a large frame.”

“We’re not having the size argument again, are we? We get it, Hot Spot, you’re big.” Blades moaned as he landed in their midst.

“Knock it off, all of you,” First Aid reprimanded. “Mirage! Where have you been? You left ages ago.”

“I’ve been cloaked, waiting here for you. Did you really expect me to come all the way back to the medibay when you were on your way here? Talk about a waste of time.”

“So?” Streetwise shifted back into bot mode, “What’s going on?”

Mirage brushed some nonexistent dust from his frame, “Well, Getaway has assembled a fairly large security force in the shuttle bay who think they’re looking for Decepticon spies. There is also a large new shuttle, fully fueled and ready for take off. Apparently it belongs to the new head of security, whoever that is, but I say we take it and get out of here.”

“Alright! It’s now or never,” First Aid motioned for Thunderclash to open his trailer. “Just like on Cybertron, Protectobots form Defensor!”

Thunderclash shifted back into bot mode and stood with Riptide watching the combiner come together. The process of six individual bots joining together into something, someone, else was mesmerizing and terrifying at the same time. He made a mental note to talk to First Aid later, he had a lot of questions about this whole thing. In the meantime he rolled his shoulders and primed his cannons. This time he was ready to fight back. He gave Getaway and Atomizer the benefit of the doubt before, and they really disappointed him. He sort of hoped he got the chance to knock some sense into the two of them.

Now fully formed, Defensor loomed over both of them, crouching to even fit in the hall. “Defensor: Subdue security team. Thunderclash and Riptide: Procure shuttle,” the colossal bot ordered.

Engine revving, Thunderclash nodded and cracked his knuckles, “You got it big bot. Let’s roll out!” Smiling as he recalled Rodimus’ truly terrible impression of Optimus’ famous battle cry.

Riptide laughed again, “That was even better than Optimus!”

“Oh, come on, nobody says it better than Optimus,” Thunderclash playfully cuffed him on the shoulder as Defensor strode over them and crashed right through the shuttle bay wall. “We better keep up!”


	14. This One's for Rodimus!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Defensor is laying waste to the Lost Light security crew, leaving Thunderclash and Riptide to secure their escape shuttle. Despite the raging battle, Thunders can't pass up an opportunity to send Getaway a message on behalf of Rodimus.
> 
> Takes place during Lost Light #12

Although they reached the gaping hole in the wall only a few seconds later, the shuttle bay had already descended into complete chaos. The Lost Light security team fired wildly at Defensor, shots ricocheting in every direction, while the giant gestalt simply swatted them away. Smoke billowed from dozens of small fires. Thunderclash and Riptide ran through the battle, dodging Defensor’s enormous limbs and stray blaster fire, making their way towards the new shuttle craft. A plasma blast struck the floor right in front of them sending up a cloud of shrapnel and thick black smoke. Sleeker and faster, Riptide jumped through first and came face to face with Getaway and Atomizer.

“You?! You should be dead!” Getaway exclaimed.

“I told you that you couldn’t drown a boat,” Atomizer said flatly.

“You never told me that!”

“Well, I was thinking it,” Atomizer replied folding his arms.

Hearing that exchange, Thunderclash increased his pace and yelled to Riptide, “Keep going! Get to the shuttle, I’ll handle this!”

“You don’t have to tell me twice!” Riptide saluted and took off.

“GETAWAY!” Thunderclash bellowed as he strode into view, wreathed in smoke, magenta optics burning with righteous fury.

“Oh Primus!” Getaway muttered before raising his voice, “Thunderclash! It’s, it’s a miracle that you’re up and about,” he stammered. “You blacked out, as usual, and we had to take you to the medibay, of course. Then… well, it’s kind of a long story. Let me explain.”

“Save your scrap ‘captain,’” Thunderclash roared as he leapt forward. “I only have one message for you, and it’s on behalf of Rodimus!” He brought his massive left fist around and landed a solid punch right on Getaway’s face. Energon splashed down his knuckles as Getaway’s golden face plate crumpled beneath the force of his blow. A smile of satisfaction spread across his own face as Getaway’s optics flickered and he clenched his right fist for another strike. “And this one is for L…”

Before he could finish his sentence, an explosive blast tore through his left shoulder nearly ripping his arm clean off, scorching the side of his face, and burning up the audio receptors on the side of his helm. His left arm fell limp and the numbness spread down his left leg. This is the second time he was shot from behind in so many days. When they fought the rust giants, Rodimus promised to watch his back. Primus, he missed him so much. 

He twisted as he fell and he landed on his back to try to see who shot him. None of the security team carried a weapon that could cause such extensive damage to armor as thick as his. Rising through the flames, Star Saber towered above the chaos brandishing a smoking pistol in one hand and a wicked sword in the other. Well that answers that question.

A quick survey of his surroundings revealed Getaway still dazed from his initial punch and Atomizer paralyzed in shock as Star Saber sliced Mirage in half. This whole situation spiraling out of control, Thunderclash struggled to get to his feet to no avail, the blast disabled his equilibrium controls and completely paralyzed the left half of his body. Not about to give up when he is so close to going after Rodimus, he began to try to slide himself backwards towards the waiting shuttle, using only his right arm and intermittent pushes from his right leg. 

He made agonizingly slow progress, but considered every inch in the right direction a victory. His arm slipped and he slammed into the floor slick with his own energon. Already partially deafened by the initial injury, falling made the edges of his vision darken. Primus, give him strength! He couldn’t give up, not now, not even if his own body refused to respond. Thunderclash raged against his own unresponsive internal systems when he felt a familiar set of claws grasp his good shoulder.

“Not bot left behind!” Riptide growled between clenched fangs as he tried to drag Thunderclash’s dead weight towards the shuttle.

“Riptide!” Thunderclash rasped, Hoist’s field repair of his vocal processor coming undone, so much for being careful. “We have to stop meeting like this, I’m usually not such a smoldering hot wreck.” Thunderclash joked. After all, he survived much, much worse.

“No,” Riptide grunted as he rhythmically tugged Thunderclash along. “You’re usually just smoldering hot!”

Despite the dire situation, Star Saber just thrust his sword into the midsection of Defensor and broke the gestalt into his six component bots, Thunderclash had to laugh, “What?! What are you talking about?!”

“Oh it’s true! Everybody thinks so. Why do you think Getaway didn’t try to drown you? Personally, I think he’s jealous.” Riptide snickered.

“This is a hell of a conversation to have right now,” Thunderclash coughed, fighting to help Riptide maneuver his heavy frame.

“It sure beats the one about how Star Saber is going to come over here and cut us both into tiny pieces.” Riptide replied, with Defensor down the ferocious newcomer set his sights on them. “At least then you’ll be easier to carry.” Riptide strained to keep them both moving. 

Thunderclash knew he should tell Riptide to leave him and go, but he just couldn’t. For once in his life, he wanted to be selfish. No matter what, Thunderclash was going to get aboard that shuttle and find Rodimus. He said nothing in the universe could stop him and even now on the verge of involuntary shut down, he meant every word.

Suddenly a red and white ambulance raced out of the destruction. First Aid shifted into bot mode midair and joined Riptide in dragging Thunderclash to the shuttle. Between the two of them, they made faster progress, with Thunderclash helping as much as he could, using his right leg to push himself along with them.

“What about the others?” Riptide asked.

First Aid just shook his head and pulled Thunderclash all the harder. “Star Saber is right behind us, we’re not going to make it!”

Riptide and First Aid struggled to keep moving. They were so close to the shuttle when Star Saber strode through the smoke. Thunderclash contemplated telling them to go. He could stay behind, maybe use his last energy reserves to take one shot at this ruffian with his undamaged shoulder cannon. Although recoil would knock all his sytems offline, Thunderclash knew he could buy Riptide and First Aid enough time to escape. Being left unconscious and alone, at the mercy of Star Saber and Getaway would likely be signing his own death warrant, but if Riptide and First Aid could somehow save Rodimus, he would be ok with that. 

“No one leaves this ship!” Star Saber bellowed, leveling his sword at the three of them.

Thunderclash reluctantly prepared to announce his plan for a heroic sacrifice when salvation came from a most unlikely source. Atomizer leapt up onto Star Saber’s back and shot him repeatedly with the nudge gun, “This is for Mirage!” 

“Go! Now!” Atomizer yelled as Star Saber dropped to his hands and knees. Thunderclash smirked, he knew exactly how bad that feels.

With a few more pulls, Riptide and First Aid got Thunderclash up the ramp into the shuttle’s cargo hold. First Aid slammed the button to seal the shuttle doors while Riptide raced to the cockpit. Thunderclash scooted himself backwards to lean against the wall as the others quickly completed take off procedures. He never felt so relieved to feel the steady hum of the shuttles engines coming up to full power. 

Audio receptors functioning at only about 50% made everything sound distant and muffled. Riptide and First Aid bickered as they prepared to launch.

“Riptide! Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“Relax! I’m a boat! Of course I know what I’m doing.”

“What does that even mean?! Flying is not the same as swimming!”

“It’s basically the same. Plus, I got a Rodimus Star for being the best swimmer, so you’re in good hands!”

The escalating roar of the engines made it too difficult to continue listening to their conversation. Slumped there alone, wound screaming in agony, leaking energon, Thunderclash eased open his chest compartment and withdrew his Rodimus Star with his one functional arm. He smiled weakly as he thought about Rodimus forging it just for him and then watching him repair the damage it sustained from Sunder. The beautiful inscription, “For surviving your own funeral,” still made him chuckle. He had to see him again.

Thunderclash winced as the distinctive shudder of a space craft jumping to full speed jostled his barely attached left arm. As soon as the ship settled into a comfortable cruising speed, First Aid rushed back to his side.

“Ok, this shuttle has a decent little medibay, and I need to stabilize these injuries right away. We probably aggravated things by violently dragging you across an active battlefield.”

“I want to help too,” Riptide said, joining them in the cargo hold. “We are out of range of the Lost Lights’ weapons systems and with the navigation set, the ship can take care of itself for a little while. I’m pretty good at maps, so I already entered the coordinates of the origin of Rodimus’ last transmission.”

Thunderclash responded with a slight nod. Now that they had escaped, he felt beyond exhausted. Logically he knew that this injury was nowhere near as severe as when Tarn shot him through the spark, but somehow this felt worse. Maybe it was the culmination of things, the mutiny, the nudge gun, the crossbow bolt, Star Saber, but most of all losing Rodimus. His spark ached in way that it never had before and Thunderclash knew it had nothing to do with his scars.

Riptide gently eased Thunderclash up on to his one good leg. “It’s been a crazy, for sure, but you’ll be happy to know, we got-away from Getaway!” he snickered.

First Aid carefully steadied him and groaned at Riptide’s joke, but Thunderclash laughed out loud, a rough tinny sound through his disintegrating throat repairs that ended with a fit of coughing that almost knocked all three of them over. With their help he managed to slowly limp his way to the medibay. It took forever, but at least no one was shooting at them.

When he finally got to the medibay, they carefully lowered him onto a recharge slab. First Aid instantly began lining up all his tools and prepping the supplemental energon pump. 

Thunderclash privately thanked Primus for his good fortune. Sure he might be a little banged up, but he made it off the Lost Light and was currently heading for Rodimus. Out of all the bots that might have come with him, he had two friends with skills he really needed, an excellent surgeon and a competent navigator with a great sense of humor. 

“Alright Thunderclash, I know you don’t want to hear this but you are on the verge of involuntary shut down. Honestly, I’m not sure how you’ve stayed so alert for so long with this amount of damage. When I start your repairs, you will probably pass out, but you will wake up feeling much better, I promise.”

Thunderclash sighed. He really wanted to stay awake, mainly out of fear of being caught in another memory loop, but he was barely holding on at this point. He already drained whatever energy reserves he had just getting to the medibay. “I just want to thank you both,” he rasped, “for everything.”

First Aid just nodded and the quickly began to get to work. Meanwhile Riptide took his large hand in his own slender ones and held it tightly, “Don’t worry, Thunders. Everything is gonna be ok.”


	15. Cyberutopia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thunderclash wakes up after passing out during his repairs to a reality that seems too good to be true. Could he be stuck in another memory loop?
> 
> Taking place between LL #12 and #13 with slight canon divergence because we still don't know where Thunders, First Aid, and Riptide will end up.

“Don’t worry, Thunders. Everything is gonna be ok.”

Thunderclash heard that somewhere before. He must have passed out at some point during his operation and everything still felt a little hazy. He remembered Riptide was there when First Aid started his repairs. Someone still held his hand, except now his grip felt strangely warm. 

“I’m not sure he can hear you yet. According to First Aid, he just had half of his audio receptors rebuilt, along with a repaired vocal processor, replaced left shoulder joint with newly welded armor seams, recalibrated equilibrium controls, emergency energon transfusion, Oh! and possibly altered memories. Am I forgetting anything?”

“No, I think that about covers it.”

“You know, I served for years on the Vis Vitale. Technically, poor Thunders was actively dying the entire time, but he never needed such extensive repairs. Now look at the poor spark, he’s all scorched paint and fresh welds.”

“Don’t blame me, I didn’t shoot him… multiple times, with several different weapons. All I did was save his life.”

“And I helped!”

First Aid’s deadpan matter-of-factness he recognized right away and that chipper voice had to be Riptide, but the first voice sounded like Lotty, which should be impossible. There’s no way they could have reached the others already. 

“Primus… this is all my fault. I should have taken him with us. I stopped by his hab suite and everything, but he was still resting up after fighting the rust giants. We were only supposed to be gone for a couple of hours.”

“It’s just lucky that you ran into us. I set the coordinates of your message into our navigation system, but we still had a ways to go.”

“Well, I’m really looking for the Lost Light and this shuttle shares the same frequency. So when we picked up your signal on Skip, our decepiti-ship, we had to check it out. I promised Thunders that I’d look out for him, and, well, I kinda did a terrible job.” 

Feeling responsible for things he had no control over but somehow still making himself the center of attention, now he identified the last voice… Rodimus! That explains the warmth he felt in his hand. After all his desperate struggles, Rodimus had found him! His initial burst of joy quickly crumbled into an unsettling sense of dread. Although he desperately wanted to see Rodimus again with all the light in his spark, none of this might be real. 

How could Rodimus be here? The last time he woke up in a medibay with Rodimus keeping him company was after Sunder turned him inside out. Come to think of it, Lotty was there too. Could this be another memory loop? What if Getaway caught up to them while First Aid was fixing him and trapped him again? But First Aid and Riptide weren’t there that time after Sunder, and he heard their voices now. What if Sunder overlapped different memories to make the loop harder to escape? Is that even possible? Thunderclash’s mind raced through different scenarios, each new one worse than the last, triggering a rising sense of panic.

He couldn’t afford to get stuck in his own mind, not again. He had to find Rodimus, and he couldn’t do that while chasing jumbled memories in a coma. If this is some kind of trap, he might not have another chance to escape. Optics just starting to come online and stabilizers at maybe 50% he attempted to jump up resulting in ungracefully flailing and falling off the recharge slab. He heard of chorus of concerned shouts as he winced and braced for the impact with the floor to jar all his freshly welded seams, but the impact never came. Someone caught him before he hit the ground, someone that radiated warmth.

“Don’t worry, Thunders, I’ve got you! This time for sure!”

Okay… this definitely never happened before so it can’t be a looped memory. Which means, Rodimus is really here!! He caught him and held him in an embrace that was fiercely protective despite the fact that Thunderclash was easily twice his size. His new shoulder joint restricted movement in his left arm but he tentatively wrapped his right arm around the slender speedster. 

“I knew you would find me,” Thunderclash rasped. Great, new vocal processor must still need to be calibrated. It could wait, somehow against all odds, they made it back to each other. Maybe their matrix-induced visions really were leading them to each other. After all, they both had the same thought but only Rodimus had the audacity to actually say it out loud.

All systems coming back online, Thunderclash eased himself back to sit on his heels, taking most of his substantial weight off of his rescuer. Optics still focusing, he finally got a look at Rodimus. Oh Primus! He changed his colors too. Sparkling hues of violet and turquoise replaced the fiery red and orange. Thunderclash just sighed, the blues perfectly matched his optics, like he needed to get even cuter. He couldn’t wait to hear the story behind the new look. Great minds think alike: confront the DJD, get a new paint job.

“Oh, come on!” Rodimus protested as he sat on the floor with him. “Everyone, and I mean everyone, including most of the bots on this ship, thought that we were all going to get totally murdered by the DJD. How could you be so sure we’d survive? We obviously made it, well most of us, but how could you know? How could you be so confident that we were alive that you’d risk everything to go off wandering through space just to find us?”

Seeing the genuine confusion in Rodimus’ optics, Thunderclash felt his spark flicker. He wished Rodimus could see himself as Thunderclash did. Then he wouldn’t have to fake anything or doubt himself so much, he would be able to see all his wonderful qualities that he didn’t seem to recognize in himself.

“Because of you,” Thunderclash answered, as if there was ever any doubt. “I will tell you the same thing I told you once before, the same thing I told Getaway: Roddy, you are incredible. You can take hold of an impossible dream and drag it kicking and screaming into reality through sheer force of will and no small amount of charm. You are relentlessly optimistic, joyfully reckless and sincerely care more deeply for your crew than anyone realizes.”

Rodimus just stared at him, blush glowing brighter until tiny teal flames danced along the edge of his spoiler. “Of… of course,” Rodimus stammered, “I mean, obviously.”

“Besides,” Thunderclash added with a wink, “you had to find me since we both know I couldn’t find my way out of an energon cube.”

That comment brought a burst of laughter from Rodimus, the flames along his spoiler shattering into a shower of sparks. “You know,” Rodimus said, “I missed you way more than I realized until just now. I never thought that I’d say it, but I am really, really happy to see you!”

To Thunderclash’s surprise, Rodimus reached out and drew him into a warm hug. Thunderclash trembled, but fiercely resolved not to faint, not this time! Focus! Vent in, vent out. He wrapped his one good arm tightly around Rodimus and rested his chin on the top of his helm. 

“Group Hug!” yelled Riptide as he grabbed Lotty and a reluctant First Aid and cuddled up to Thunderclash and Rodimus. Honestly, once he saw Rodimus painted in the swirling sapphires and amethysts of the endless possibilities of infinite space, Thunderclash had forgotten anyone else was even in the room.

Such tremendous joy overwhelmed Thunderclash, he felt his spark might burst. He curled around Rodimus as he felt him snuggle closer and reveled in the embrace of his best friends. Whatever adventures lie before them, whatever struggles the future held, they would face them together. Right here, right now was the happiest that he had ever been. Getaway could search for Cyberutopia with all the charts and maps in the universe, he was already too late. Thunderclash had found it first, in the arms of his magnificent captain, and he would never let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I'm glad you are here with me. Here at the end of all things." ~Frodo Baggins
> 
> Kinda dramatic, I know, but I got emotional when I changed that "number of chapters" box from a ? to definitive 15. Writing and sharing this fic has been so much fun! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading, leaving kudos, and especially all the fantastic comments!


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